Brave
by shelizabeth
Summary: Mary Margaret and teenager Emma are in cursed Storybrooke. Neither of them remember who they are, but both are trying to get through life as normally and as best they can. It's never so easy with a teenager, though. When 14 year old Emma is ostracized at school, she turns her focus on her family and finding her father.
1. Chapter 1

**Note: **Well, hello. Thank you for reading this! This is a new story I've decided to start, although it started as a one-shot and a little closer to canon it ended up completely AU of a sort of cursed life with Mary Margaret and teenager Emma. Basically the premise is Mary Margaret and Emma in cursed Storybrooke, neither with any memory of who they are. The only thing that's different is that the curse is in real time, so I guess I modified it a little bit. Also as you'll see in this chapter, Emma doesn't know her father. But David will be a character in the story eventually. Also I wanted to thank _ViolinGirl2, _your PM request gave me the inspiration to start this! I've really missed writing fanfiction, even though it's highly time-consuming, so I hope it will be worth the time. Anyway, thanks for reading and leave me a review and let me know if you'd want to read more! Especially with my busy schedule, reviews will really help me decide if it's worth it to continue.

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><p>"Mom?" Emma slurped the words out while stuffing her open mouth with a full spoon of cereal. She felt milk dribbling off her chin and quickly wiped it with her her arm, but it was too late. Her mom saw, and was handing her a napkin.<p>

"Hmm?"

"How come you don't date anyone?" Emma repeated, using her napkin to dab the wet spot where the milk trailed.

"Emma..."

"I'm serious, Mom. Have you dated anyone since my dad?"

"Of course I have! It just never stuck. Besides, I'm happy how things are. I have you, and my kids at school. What more do I need?"

"Uh... sex?" Emma suggested in a bored tone, clearly not realizing the scandal behind it.

"Emma! You are fourteen!"

"Yeah," Emma corroborated. "Exactly. I'm fourteen. I know what sex is, and I know it's important. And I know you should get some of it."

"Okay," Mary Margaret said dismissively, picking up Emma's bowl even though Emma was still scooping cereal out of it. Emma faintly trailed out "Hey..." but it got lost in Mary Margaret's shuffle. "That's enough. Go get your bag. We're going."

"I wasn't done," Emma protested, but still lept off her chair and made her way towards her bedroom, where her unzipped bag lay across her bed, it's contents spilling out onto her pillows. She quickly stuffed everything lazily into her plain black bag and hauled it over one shoulder. With a pang of regret, she remembered she hadn't completed her homework entirely the night before.

"Mom," she called through the hallway. "I need to stay home today."

"Absolutely not."

"MOM!" whined Emma. "_please!_"

"Hurry up, before we're late," Mary Margaret warned, ignoring Emma's requests. Emma grudgingly followed, knowing it was a long shot to stay home. Still, she was annoyed with her mom and decided not to talk to her the entire car ride to her school. That would show her.

"Bye Em! Have a good day, I love you!"

Emma grunted in reply and slammed the passenger side door. She couldn't think of any place she wanted to be less than school right now. For more reasons than just her homework. It was her first year of high school, and her teachers were the least of her problems. It seemed like everyone had it out for her. Well, Anastasia did. Anastasia had a long face that reminded Emma somewhat of a horse, but while Emma's blonde hair lazily fell around her face in different sized whiffs, Anastasia's was always flat ironed to perfection. In fact, Emma wasn't sure she had ever seen it move out of place. It happened at the first football game of the school year, one that her friend Avery dragged her to insisting that it would be fun. And in fact, she was having an okay time until Mikey appeared out of nowhere and groped her chest from behind. Emma turned around and slapped him out of pure shock, then out of embarrassment ran to the outside bathrooms where Ava followed. After talking it out, Emma was sure that it had been an accident. Mikey was Anastasia's boyfriend. They had been dating since the beginning of eighth grade. They were both blonde, so it was obviously just an honest mistake.

But Emma was foolish to think Mikey would admit to making that mistake. By the time she left the outside bathrooms an entire seven minutes later, the story was out. Emma had tricked Mikey into thinking she was Anastasia so he'd make out with her.

"We didn't even kiss!" Emma exclaimed as Avery pulled her towards the parking lot. "What the hell are they talking about?! They were there! They saw it!"

"Just leave it, Em," Avery advised. "It will blow over by Monday. They're just bored and need something to talk about."

But Emma had tears pricking at her eyes, and despite her best efforts, she couldn't stop them. She felt like a big whiny baby for caring, and yet, she felt utter despair over everyone seemingly hating her. The only thing that helped her keep it together when her mom came to pick her and Avery up was Avery's assurance that it would definitely blow over by Monday.

It didn't blow over. In fact, as time passed, Emma became more and more sure that it would _never_ blow over. Anastasia had it in for her since that football game. She would accidentally trip her in the hall, spread embarrassingly untrue rumors about her, and ridicule anyone who disputed them. Even Avery was starting to talk to her less and less inside school grounds. It was like a warzone when she walked through the doors, and she was standing on a battlefield with a thousand guns pointed right at her. Either the teachers were oblivious, or just too bored to care. Either way, Emma was completely alone in this fight. She hadn't even told her real best friend, her mom, even though she wasn't entirely sure why not. It just felt too immature to mention. Yeah, a girl thinks I kissed her boyfriend so now she won't let me sit at the lunch table . . .

It was pure bad luck that she had to be born blonde. She blamed her father, even though she had never met him. Her mother had dark, ebony colored hair. Maybe she had her fairness and her chin, but that was all. Otherwise, she figured she must be a miniature version of her father. She didn't know much about him, and the little she did know she pieced together herself. Like that he had blonde hair. When she asked her mom, she was so elusive and mysterious that Emma wondered if they even knew each other. She would be lying if the idea of a one night stand didn't cross her mind; it seemed to make the most sense. But somehow she knew that wasn't the case. Something deep inside her told her it was more than that.

"Hey Em," Avery said, matching her steps in a side by side walk with Emma. "What's up?"

"Nothing. Did you do the History homework?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"I forgot. Can I copy at lunch?"

"Er- okay. I'll just give it to you now. You can hand it back to me before class."

"What? Why? You can just hold on to it until-" but Emma trailed off. Avery wasn't planning to sit with her at lunch.

"I'm sorry, Emma, you know I love you!" She defended, put her hand on Emma's arm. Emma refused to make eye contact. "It's just... my locker was filled with dirty tissues this morning. And last night someone kept calling my house and asking for the mole. My mom's starting to ask questions and I just... I'm sorry, Emma. Do you wanna hang out after school?"

"No, I can't," Emma lied, taking the homework packet out of Avery's hands. "I have plans with my mom. Thanks though," said Emma, holding up the packet and walking away. She had never felt more alone than she did right now. The last thing she wanted was Mikey approaching her, but there he was, waiting at the locker she knew was hers from a mile away. On it was brightly colored mismatched magnets that spelled ou E, ones from a set that you could find inside Anastasia's locker. Yet, she never seemed punished for it because of lack of evidence. Emma quickly ripped off the letters and let them dropping to the floor, not even caring about putting them in the trash like usual, because she knew they would just reappear tomorrow.

"Hey cutie," Mikey smiled and Emma didn't even try to hide her shudder at the sound of his voice.

"Can you please not."

"Not what?"

"Do that. Talk to me. You're going to make it worse."

"I know she's a bitch. I'm sorry for how she's acted."

"Just please stop talking to me," Emma pleaded, staring intently at her locker so she wouldn't have to make eye contact with him.

"Would you just listen?" He posed it as a question, but it sounded like a demand. His breaths were harsh on her face as he spoke, and he smelled stale.

"Go. Away." She gritted her teeth.

"Not until you listen."

"Step away from me before I make you," Emma warned under her breath. His laugh curdled something inside her and as he placed his hand casually on the floor of her locker. She didn't think about it too much, but just pulled her arm back to slam her locker door shut as hard as she could. With Mikey screaming profanities, Emma jumped back in shock and placed her hands over her mouth. She had really just done that!

"GET IT OFF ME!" He screamed, causing people to start gathering around in a half-circle to see what was going on. Emma, realizing that she was at fault for the door on his hand, quickly moved back and swirled the numbers on the lock back and forth until she could swing the door open again.

"I'msosorry," Emma said quickly, one hand still over her mouth.

"You're a fucking psycho bitch!" Mikey called out loudly. "Just because I turned you down again you slam my fucking hand in your locker!"

Emma could feel the heat fill her cheeks like pouring water into a glass. She could hear her own breaths and clenched her hands so tightly at her waist that her knuckles turned white.

"THAT'S NOT WHAT HAPPENED AND YOU KNOW IT!"

"She's crazy," Mikey laughed, holding his sore hand in his other, and looking towards his increasingly bigger audience. "It's no wonder everyone avoids her like the plague."

Emma flared her nostrils and turned heatedly on her heels. She forgot about Avery's history homework, and frankly, even if she hadn't, she wouldn't have cared. She wanted to leave the school, but she couldn't, so she stormed to the nurse. She punched in her student ID number and sat in the chair, still clenching her fists so tightly that her nails dug into her palm.

"Can I help you?"

"Yeah. I have a stomachache. My mom knows about them, they're really bad. Can I call her?"

The nurse handed the phone on the cord over the counter to Emma wordlessly and Emma dialed, praying that the nurse would leave the front room so she wouldn't overhear her conversation. As the phone kept ringing, she began to feel nervous as the nurse ruffled through papers on her desk. At the same time as she heard her mom's voice say hello, the nurse picked up a manila folder of papers and left the room. Emma let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" Her mom repeated. The sound of her voice made Emma crumble on the other end.

"I'm sorry I didn't say I love you back this morning," Emma croaked, suddenly feeling so overwhelmingly guilty that it was crushing.

"Emma, sweetie, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Mom, I don't feel good. Can you come pick me up?"

"You don't feel good? What's wrong? Do you have a fever?"

"I don't know," Emma said, starting to get irritated enough to stop crying. "Can you please just come pick me up? I need to go home."

"Okay hon, I'm going to request a sub and I'll be right there. Do you want anything? Pudding or ice cream?"

"No... just... get here."

She hung up the phone when she saw the nurse coming back down the hallway and smiled a tight, fake thin line.

"All set?"

"Uh, yeah. My mom is coming to pick me up."

"Do you need to get your stuff?"

"What?" Emma asked, alarmed at the idea of going out in the hallway again but quickly recovered and eyed her bag. "Oh. No. I'm good."

The nurse seemed suspicious, but nodded and sat back down at her desk. Emma sat back in the chair and put her bag on her lap and twiddled her thumbs, wondering if she was going to have to be a ninth grade dropout.


	2. Chapter 2

**Note:** Just wanted to thank you guys so much for giving this new story a chance! It's the most AU fanfiction I've ever written, but I'm really enjoying it, so I hope you guys are too. And thank you for the reviews! They really make my day, please, continue leaving them. They really are what keep a story going. At least for me, that is. :)

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><p>Emma awoke with a startle. She surveyed her surroundings and found herself on the couch in her living room, surrounded by darkness. She blinked rapidly a few times before focusing her hazy gaze on the clock on the oven. It blinked in bright green that it was 5:03. That gave Emma another hour to sleep, and thinking about last night, she remembered how she ended up on the couch.<p>

Her mom couldn't stay home with her, she only had another teacher watching over her class until she got back, which left Emma alone in the house until three. She quite enjoyed the alone time, she finding that was more and more true as of late, but by the time her mom got home, she had calmed down and realized that everything that had happened seemed too stupid to mention. So the best course of action was to just stick with the faking sick. Her mom brought her home soup, ice cream, and pudding, and Emma didn't particularly dispute the ice cream anyway. She spent the night on the couch, keeping up the sick charade, but wasn't sure when exactly she fell asleep. It must have been early, because her mom put a blanket over her before going up to bed. That must be why she wasn't tired at all right now. She left the blanket her mom draped over her on the couch and went up to her room, wondering how she was going to survive the day after yesterday. She had a lab in her chemistry class today, so she really couldn't miss it because her teacher didn't allow them to make up labs. She calculated the time her class would be finished and wondered if she could go home early, but quickly got frustrated with herself for not being able to figure out a plausible solution besides staying the entire day. She had Chemistry first, so she couldn't go in late, and she couldn't go to the nurse again. She would have to figure out lunch, but if she kept her head down in class, she could do it. She felt oddly confident lying on top of her bed, staring at the darkness of the ceiling. She could hear shuffling in the hallway and knew her mom was getting up to take a shower. She decided to get dressed too, so she could rest peacefully until her stomach steered her down to the kitchen.

If it wasn't for her lab, she soon found out, she could have stayed home. Her mom was offering it, probably feeling bad that she didn't let her stay home yesterday when Emma had asked. Emma assured her mom that she would be fine, though, as they neared the school. This time, when she closed the door behind her, she said I love you back, overwhelmingly grateful suddenly that she had at least one person in her corner.

She felt energized, completely unphased by the letters PSYCHO spelled out in magnets on her locker door. She carefully picked up each letter and dropped them casually in the trash at the end of the line of lockers. She opened hers, humming softly, and stepped to the side in case anything were to fall out. To her unpleasant surprise, nothing did. That meant that Anastasia was planning something else, something new and different than dirty tissues or gym socks from the boys locker room. A slight panic overwhelmed her, but she reassured herself with the idea that maybe Anastasia was growing bored and the whole thing was really starting to blow over. Further uplifting her spirits, she saw Avery walking down the hall talking to some girls from their History class.

"Hey! Avery! Guess what?" Emma said enthusiastically. "I think Anastas-yuck is finally getting over her hatred for me! Nothing in my locker today!"

"Er- that's great. Do you have my History homework from yesterday?"

"What? Oh yeah. Sorry about that," Emma apologized, pulling the loose packet out from her half-unzipped bag.

"It's fine," Avery said curtly, then turned on her heels without another word. Emma curiously watched her leave, wondering if she was mad at her for leaving yesterday with the homework. Surely she had heard what happened? She must have understood why she had to leave. She would call her later, she decided, and ask her if she knew.

By the time she arrived at the other end of the building where the science labs were, she just was just late enough to cause everyone to turn their heads and look at her when she walked in. Her cheeks burned instinctively when she heard chuckling behind the desks, knowing it was something stupid she did, it was somehow her fault. She wished Avery was in her class, though lately she wasn't sure what good that would really do. Staring at the tiles on the classroom floor, she moved to her regular seat in the front corner of the room. There was no one else at the table, though usually only one other seat was ever occupied near her, and that was by her partner, Kyle. He must be missing the lab.

"Emma, how great of you to finally join us. We were just talking about the most efficient temperature enzymes in the body would function at?"

The inflexion in her voice made her realize it was a question, and the eye contact told her it was for her to answer. She was grateful for the hour she had this morning, when she had grown bored enough looking at the ceiling that she skimmed over the lab packet again.

"Um..." Emma cleared her throat. "37 degrees? Celsius, I mean."

"Exactly right! Excellent Emma!" Her teacher was so enthused that Emma was sure her tardiness was forgiven. She was blissful for a few moments before the snickering started, and to Emma's utter dismay, Anastasia's hand shot up as soon as Emma finished speaking.

"Excuse me," Anastasia said smugly, her hand still raised, for she had not yet been called on but was speaking anyway. "But this is _America. _We use Fahrenheit here."

Emma wanted to call out that she was an idiot, that all science used the metric system, but instead she shrank behind her desk and let her cheeks burn. She should have just said 98 degrees like a normal person. Why did she have to wake up early and have that stupid packet fresh in her mind?! Their teacher stuck up for Emma, which seemed to only make matters worse and the snickering louder. When Emma had to join a group, one girl exclaimed that she can't be in a group with her because Emma would try to steal her boyfriend or slam her hand into a locker if they got the answer wrong. Emma was too embarrassed to dispute it, and pleaded with the teacher to let her work individually.

The rest of the day passed in much of the same fashion as chemistry. It wasn't just Anastasia that hated her now, it was everyone. Or everyone was afraid of Anastas-yuck and so had to pretend to hate her, which Emma hoped, but either way, left her in a horrible position. And it felt pretty real when they were calling her psycho and loose lips. Emma had never even kissed a boy yet, how could she be loose lips! What did that even mean anyway?! She kept her head down most of the time, dreading what had finally come. Lunch. Because she had last lunch period, she had it right before her final period of the day. She picked up the meal of the day, nachos with too much cheese that made them all soggy, and scanned the giant cafeteria. She was looking for an empty spot in the overcrowded room. She only needed one seat, and she found it at a table where a small group of upperclassmen were. She sat down wordlessly at the corner, hoping they wouldn't say anything. Quietly, she picked at her nachos, looking for the ones least affected by the cardboard-tasting melted cheese.

She felt it first. A warm, sticky sensation trailing down the back of her a neck, and her hand immediately fled to the spot. When she pulled it back, she widened her eyes at the cheese sauce now on her fingers.

"I'm SO sorry!" said Anastasia in a voice so cold that it made Emma shudder. "Here," she offered, spreading the sauce throughout Emma's hair. "Let me help."

"You're making it worse!" screeched Emma, pulling back, but Anastasia had the most satisfied grin on her face that told Emma she wasn't really interesting in helping in the first place.

"Your boyfriend came on to me!" Emma yelled angrily. "Haven't you ever seen those cheesy movies? It's always a stupid scumbag boy that hits on the girl and she rejects him then his girlfriend goes crazy on the girl anyway and blames her and in the end you realize it was his fault all along. It's literally exactly like that! How can you be so _stupid?!"_

Anastasia's nostrils were now flaring, and Emma realized she said something very awful.

"It's nothing like that you lying wh*re! You don't know anything about my life or my boyfriend!"

"O-kay..." Emma said slowly. "But you act like you know all about mine? How is that fair at all? You don't know me, yet you literally turned the whole school against me. I feel like I'm in a middle school movie and you're the evil queen."

This was apparently worse than what Emma had said before and before she knew it, she was ducking her head so Anastasia would swing and miss. Emma, staring in shock, meant to ask what the hell, but she didn't have a chance. In seconds, Anastasia was swinging again, this time, hitting Emma's nose.

"What the hell!" Emma said, pushing Anastasia with one hand a far enough distance away so she couldn't hit her again, and holding her face in the other. At Emma's shove, Anastasia lost her balance and fell directly on her butt. By this time, a crowd was gathering around them and teachers were pushing students out of the way to get towards them.

"What is going on here?" said a teacher Emma had never seen before.

"She pushed me!" Anastasia cried from the floor. Emma lowered her mouth in shock.

"Only after she punched me in the nose!" Emma defended.

"Alright, both of you, to the principal. There is a zero tolerance policy for fighting in this school!"

Emma wanted to clarify that she wasn't fighting, but decided to keep quiet. She followed grudgingly down the hall, briefly feeling like a celebrity in the worst way possible. Anastasia seemed to be soaking it up, flipping her hair back, enjoying every ounce of attention. Emma was still holding her nose.

"You two can sit there and wait for the principal," the teacher Emma didn't know directed, leaving them in an office Emma had never seen before. It was quite bland in her opinion, very mediocre and average looking. It could belong to anyone, as there was no pictures or personalized touches at all throughout the room. The only reason Emma knew she was even in the principal's office was the silver name plate at the front of the desk.

"Hi ladies," the man Emma knew as her principal through brief passings in the hallway said, his smile so thin-lipped that it barred all his teeth. "I heard there was a brawl at lunch?"

"Emma pushed me to the ground. She's hated me all year because she has a crush on my boyfriend."

"I do not!" Emma exclaimed in shock that she would outright lie to the principal like that. "She hit me in the face because she THINKS I like her boyfriend because he tried to, like, makeout with me!"

The principal looked exasperated at their two tales.

"Alright," he reasoned, clicking away on his computer. "Neither of you have a record here and Emma, you are quite the exceptional young student," he complimented, causing a redness to flourish in Emma's cheeks again. "Anyway, because of no prior offenses, I'm going to let you both off with a warning. However, because you participated in a physical altercation, you do need to bring these forms home and have your parent sign it acknowledging that there was a brawl. If it happens again we'll call home, and if the behavior continues it will result in suspension and expulsion. Do I make myself clear?"

Both girls nodded. Emma was late for her last class, but it was History, so she didn't care. For some reason she expected that Avery wouldn't save her a seat, and she was right. She sat in an empty desk in the back, trying not to fall asleep before the last bell rang.

When the minute hand finally made it to the 12, the bell rung and Emma was the first person scuffling down the hallway. A boy reached his foot out to trip her, but Emma saw it first, and stepped around it. She walked past her bus, which waited in a long line outside to take all the kids home. She broke out in a half run-half power walk down the big hill her school was on, and kept a steady power walk pace until she reached the Sheriff's station.

It was small inside, only two desks and a tiny jail cell. It was completely empty except for a blonde man poring over one of the desks, writing something on a big stack of papers.

"Excuse me?" Emma said, clearing her throat. She apparently startled the man.

"Oh, hi! Can I help you with something?"

"Yes, I'm fourteen and I want to be a police officer."

"Fourteen? That's pretty young," the man laughed pleasantly.

"Yes, but I really want to learn how to defend myself. Please, will you help me? You don't even have to pay me! I just have to be able to tell kids at school they can't mess with me anymore or I can put them in jail."

The man let out a deeper laugh and signaled for Emma to sit down at the empty desk.

"This is cool," Emma marveled. "I like this already. I'm Emma, by the way."

"Hi Emma. I'm Sheriff Nolan. But I think we're close enough now for you to call me David."

Emma grinned at her new friend. She liked David already, whether he gave her the job or not.

"So will you hire me?" Emma asked hopefully.

"Well..." David said thoughtfully. "I already have someone training to be deputy, he's out on the job right now. But I'll tell you what, I could really use an intern if you'd be willing to help after school. That way you can say you're in with the Sheriff's office."

"Oh, thank you!" Emma said happily, jumping up. "You don't know how important this is to me! Thank you thank you!" Emma couldn't help the happiness leaking out of her, and gave David a hug around his waist before picking up the bag she dropped on the floor coming in. "When's my first day? I can start right now if you need me to!" Emma said enthusiastically, ready to drop her bag again if he said yes.

"No," he laughed. "We have to fill out some paperwork if you're going to be an official intern here. Can you come by tomorrow with a parent or guardian to sign some papers?"

"Yes, of course! Thank you so much David!" Emma practically skipped out the office, feeling lighter than she had since she started high school. She couldn't believe it. Her plan really worked.

For the first time in a long time, she was excited about something again.


	3. Chapter 3

Greeted by colleagues of her mother, Emma greeted them all happily, skipping down the elementary school hallway. She rarely ever visited her mom at work, but she could not wait to tell her the news. When she entered the classroom, her mom was kneeling halfway behind her desk, talking eye-level with a ten-year-old student and by the looks of it, reprimanding her for something. The tiny girl had long dark hair in a braid that bounced when she nodded and ran off. Emma was watching her so closely she was startled when her mom noticed her.

"Emma!" Her mom said cheerily. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh I- I came to tell you I got a job!"

"A job?" Her mom questioned, scrunching her eyebrows. Another group of numbers got called over the PA system, seemingly the last, because the few students that were there escaped the classroom doors and ran down the hall as quickly as their legs could carry them. Both Emma and Mary Margaret were momentarily distracted, then Emma turned her gaze back towards her mother.

"It's an internship at the sheriff's station. Will you come with me tomorrow to sign papers and stuff? Please Mom, this is really important to me. PLEASE!"

"Will you relax?" laughed Mary Margaret, lifting her hand up to twirl the ends of her daughter's hair. She felt a dried stickiness and instinctively lifted her hand to her nose to smell it. "Emma, what on earth has gotten in your hair?"

"Um..." Emma thought dumbly. "It's a long story. It's cheese sauce from lunch."

"Cheese sauce? How in the world did you get cheese sauce all-" Mary Margaret stopped to feel different clumps of Emma's hair, all completely covered, "-over yourself?"

"It was, er, a food fight. Yeah, we got in a food fight. It was supposed to be this big joke between the first years. The school called it a _physical altercation," _Emma mocked the term and used air quotes when describing it, "but it was just us being stupid fourteen year olds. You just have to sign a paper though because technically me and this other girl came in physical contact when we were throwing the foods. It was all planned though, but it was stupid, and I won't do anything like it again."

Mary Margaret looked questioningly at Emma, but Emma was shoving the form for her to sign, so Mary breathlessly took it and signed her name at the bottom.

"You'd tell me if something was going on, wouldn't you?"

Emma narrowed her eyes. "Like you've always told me?"

"What are you talking about?"

Emma watched her mom pack up her papers and giant planner into her over the shoulder bag and suddenly felt horrible for mentioning it.

"Nothing," Emma mumbled. "Can we go home now?"

"Sure," her mom agreed. Emma wanted to say something the entire ride home, but she couldn't think of exactly what to say, so she kept quiet. She didn't want to make anything worse after her weird comment in the classroom. "What are you thinking for dinner?" Her mom asked, pulling into the driveway. In response, Emma shrugged and unbuckled her seatbelt.

"I'm going to take a shower first," Emma declared. "I'm not really in the mood for anything, so whatever you want."

And before her mom could say anything, Emma was striding up the stairs two at a time to their apartment. She felt extremely overwhelmed by the lie she told her mom. She had no idea why she was still lying. She had the perfect opportunity to explain everything; she was almost certain her mom would understand and fight for her. She had no idea why she had chosen to keep her silence. It wasn't a stupid thing anymore, she knew that. Anastasia had actually punched her in the face. High school or not, she knew her mom would want to know.

She stood in the shower for a long time, letting the steam fill up her lungs until the heat was suffocating her. When she got out, she threw on the baggiest clothes she could find in her drawers and laid on her floor, hoping her mom wouldn't interrupt her.

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><p>When Emma awoke the next morning, her stomach screaming for breakfast, she ran through the day in her head before remembering what she was doing after school. With a rush of energy, she dressed quickly and ran downstairs, where her mom was sitting at the island already, sipping coffee.<p>

"Hey bug," her mom smiled, resting the mug on the counter. "Are feeling any better? I figured you must be still a little out of it. I left a plate in the fridge from dinner last night. You can have that tonight if you want. Your favorite- white cheddar mac and cheese with the crushed crackers on top."

"Thanks," Emma grimaced, remembering how steadily she avoided her mom last night. She picked up a banana from the bowl on the table and began peeling, only because it was quick and her stomach was begging her for food. "Don't forget about after school!" Emma reminded her mom with a mouth full of banana. "It's important!"

"I'm not going to forget," Mary Margaret smiled, then looked thoughtfully at her daughter. "Are you sure you want to do this? You really should focus on school right now. It's going to be a lot on your plate. Don't you want to just enjoy your time to be young and hang out with friends? "

"Mom, I'm doing great in school. And I want to do this. Besides, if you haven't noticed, I don't exactly have friends lining up to hang out with me." Emma tried to muster a casual tone, but she was getting too close to comfort to the topic she had been steadily avoiding.

"What about Avery?" said her mom, scrunching her brows.

"We've been... growing apart," Emma shrugged, stepping on the pedal to open the trash lid and throw her banana peel in. "Can we go?"

"Avery was such a nice girl," Mary Margaret persisted. "Well, I hope you two can work it out."

Emma rolled her eyes, but said she hoped so too. She chirped happily in the car about her meeting with David and how great he was for giving her a job, and how cool the office was, and how she wanted to be the next Sheriff. She waved bye to her mom and told her she loved her, and continued her day in much of the same fashion. Anastasia seemed hindered by the warning they got from the principal, or maybe Emma was too excited to notice much, but there were no letters on her locker when she walked in that morning.

In Chemistry, a girl named Ella that was always silently sitting in the opposite corner of Emma spoke for the first time all year. When their teacher asked how pH can affect the reaction time of enzymes, Ella spoke up, earning titters and laughter from Anastasia and her friends. Emma felt her blood boil watching Ella shrink back into her seat, but for a fleeting moment, let herself entertain the thought that Anastasia really had moved on from torturing her.

With a truly enlightened spirit, Emma traveled through the rest of the day on airplane mode, flying through the clouds. By the time History was nearing end, she was tapping her feet anxiously for the bell. She couldn't wait to get to the station and start her first day.

"Don't forget to read pages 529 to 563 for Friday and do questions one through ten on 563!" Their teacher called out to a shuffle of backpacks and sneakers on the linoleum floor.

The class let out a universal groan, but Emma didn't care. She skidded under her feet through the front doors of the school and down the big hill. She was panting when she stood outside the Sheriff's station, so she took a few moments to compose herself and take in a few breaths before going in, even though her hair was still sticking to her and she could feel the flush in her face from the chilly fall air.

David was sitting at his desk, engrossed in papers like he was the day before, but this time there was another boy sitting at the second desk, seemingly highlighting something, and another smaller, square desk at the end of David's. Beaming, Emma realized it must be for her.

"Um, Sheriff?" said a nervous Emma.

"Please, Emma," he said, looking up from his papers and smiling warmly. "Call me David."

"Right. David."

"And this is Graham. He's sixteen, training to be my deputy. Graham, this is Emma. The new intern I was telling you about."

"Cool. Hi Graham."

"Hey Emma."

"Don't you have school?" Emma blurted impulsively.

"I'm homeschooled," he grinned. "Someday I'm going to be Sheriff, though."

Emma narrowed her eyes. So this was her competition.

"So, you have a parent or guardian coming, right?" David asked, breaking the silence. "To sign a bunch of legality papers?"

"Yeah. My mom. She's coming at three, but I figured I would come right after school in case you wanted me to start anything. I can start right away. Anything you need."

"She's an eager beaver, eh?" Graham joked, and Emma shot him a hard stare.

"Exactly what we need around here!" David exclaimed as the phone rang. David answered, said barely a few words, assured the other line that it was no problem then hung up.

"What am I doing boss?" Graham asked.

"Women owning the flower shop downtown said someone broke in and cut all the tips off her flowers so they would die. Just head down and fill out a report for her, see what's going on."

"Got it," Graham nodded, then gave a single nod to Emma. Emma returned it, now sitting behind her square desk on the other side of David's.

"This is awesome," Emma said as Graham left the room, admiring her desk.

"I thought you might like your own space. You know as an intern though, it's just going to be helping me here in the station. Filing papers, answering calls, that sort of stuff."

Emma nodded enthusiastically.

"You know we can't start anything until your mom gets here? We can't even go over the stuff without her?"

Emma nodded again, trying to hide her slight disappointment.

"You know what we can talk about though?" David asked and Emma shook her head this time. "Why you feel like you need to threaten classmates with jail time to get them to leave you alone."

Emma flushed immediately, embarrassed that she had admitted that.

"It's stupid," she insisted, tracing the lines on the old desk in front of her.

"Have you told anyone?" David asked softly. Emma continued tracing the lines, but shook her head shamefully. There was no point in denying it, he obviously pretty much understand the basics of what had been happening. "You should tell an adult you trust. What about your mom?"

"I can't-" Emma started, who, feeling like she couldn't trace the lines any more than she already had, finally looked up at David. She was surprised by the warmness in her eyes from the presence of tears. "She has enough to worry about. I can handle it on my own."

"I'm sure you can," David agreed solemnly. "But that doesn't mean you should have to."

"It's this girl at school," Emma started, letting the words fall out like free weights. "Her boyfriend like grabbed my chest at a football game then told everyone I was coming on to him and ever since then she's had it out for me. She leaves me horrible messages on my locker and fills it with smelly and disgusting things somehow. She has the whole school laughing at me if I answer a question in class, even if it's correct. And yesterday," Emma stopped to take a breath, "yesterday, she dumped nacho cheese all over my hair and then punched me in the nose. And it's still kind of sore, but I can't tell my mom, because then I'll have to tell her everything."

"Wow. . ." said David slowly, watching Emma carefully. "It sounds like she's insecure and jealous of you, so she's taking it out on you."

"You think so?" Emma asked.

"Absolutely. I hope you're not letting her get to you too much."

Emma shrugged. "I just want to be able to defend myself."

"Well," said David decisively. "I think that's understandable."

"Mom!" Emma said, seeing her mom walk in the doorway. She quickly got up to meet her, then introduced her to David.

"It's nice to meet you," he smiled.

"You as well. I hear you're giving my fourteen year old daughter a job though."

"An _internship_," Emma clarified, holding her mom's hand excitedly and waiting for her reaction. She wanted her to be as excited as she felt. "I'm not getting paid."

"That's right," David supported. "It's just for experience. And I completely understand school is first. She'll have plenty of time for homework and if it ever gets to be too much, she can take as long of a break as she needs to and come back whenever she's ready."

"Really? That's quite a deal you have for yourself, Emma," said her mom, clearly impressed. She didn't have anything to dispute when he laid it out like that.

"It's _perfect_, Mom."

When Mary Margaret left after going over the hours, a clear description, and signing all the papers, and after an assurance that Emma would be home by dinner, Emma embarrassingly apologized for all her mom's questions.

"It's because she cares. If I had a daughter, I would be the same way," said David light heartedly.

"Should we start tomorrow?" Emma asked eagerly.

"No, I think you should take tomorrow and the weekend off, and we'll start fresh on Monday," David suggested, not oblivious to Emma's disappointed expression. "But before you leave tonight, I do have one first order of police business I need you to accompany me on. I know I said you wouldn't be leaving the office much, but this night just happens to be a rare exception."

Excitement and nervousness running through her veins, Emma followed David to his patrol car and buckled herself in the front seat. She wanted to ask a million questions, but decided to wait until David spoke. He would tell her what she needed to know. Until they pulled in front of the emergency doors of the Storybrooke hospital, and Emma couldn't resist.

"What are we doing here?!" Emma asked, curiously, trailing her eyes from the people walking in and out of the automatic doors to David and back.

"The first order of business if you're on the squad is to be in top physical condition," David explained casually, moving the gear shift to park. "Which means, you need to get that nose checked out."


	4. Chapter 4

**Note: **Thank you for the reviews! They are so motivating and fun and give me so much inspiration to hear what you guys are thinking. I did see one where someone said they are not reading anymore because David isn't Emma's dad, so I just wanted to say before you guys check out of the story for good, you can ask me questions on my tumblr **shelizabethwriting** about the story and I'd be happy to answer. Other than that enjoy, this chapter explains quite a bit of background! As always, let me know what you're thinking!

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><p>"Well, it's not broken," the doctor said, shuffling papers on his clipboard. He looked up at Emma to get one last look at her nose. "You said you walked into a door?"<p>

"Right..." Emma said slowly, looking at David. She had told the doctor her story in the x-ray room, and was hoping David wouldn't dispute her. To her relief, he stayed quiet, but raised his eyebrows at her.

"Try not to walk into anymore doors," the doctor smiled. "And I think you'll be fine. I can see why your dad took you to get checked out though. You have some serious internal bruising."

"Oh, no!" said Emma and David at the same time.

"He's not my dad," Emma clarified. "He just gave me a job."

"Oh, I'm sorry," said the doctor absent-mindedly, looking again at his clipboard. "Anyway, you should be fine as long as you don't fall down any more stairs or get yourself punched in the face," he joked, causing Emma to sneak a look towards David, who was looking at her knowingly.

"Great," Emma said quickly, hopping off the paper-sheeted bed. "Thanks." The doctor nodded in surprise at her abruptness and shook David's hand before exiting. "Thanks," Emma started again. "For taking me. But I'm definitely late for dinner now, so my mom is going to kill me."

When she rode home, she couldn't stop shaking her leg anxiously, though she didn't know why. She felt like she was bursting inside herself, like she couldn't swallow the words for another minute without choking on them.

"There's another reason I wanted to get involved with the Sheriff's station," Emma blurted out when David pulled up in front of her house. She was staring at her hands on her lap, waiting for David to say something.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. The truth is I really want to find out who my dad is, and I don't know, I just thought this would be a good place to start. With records and stuff. I don't know, plus there's like detective work and stuff. I just thought maybe it could help me find my father."

"Well, we do keep the records of the people in Storybrooke in the office," David said thoughtfully. "And we do a lot of detective work. You've never met your father?"

Emma shook her head, unsure why she was sharing so much with a person she had just met, telling him things she hasn't been able to tell her mother. "I don't even know his name. I've hinted about it with my mom, but she kind of just avoids the subject. I just want to know why he didn't stick around."

"Well," David said pushing his eyebrows together in thought, "you're pretty awesome, Emma. If he chose to miss out on that, it's his loss."

"Thanks," Emma said, suddenly shy, giving a weak smile. "Do you want to come in for dinner? You could explain that it's not my fault that I'm late. Don't mention the hospital though. You could just say you had me working on papers."

"Emma, I won't tell your secrets for you. But I'm not going to tell your lies either. This is your story to tell, okay? You decide when. I can't help you out here."

"Okay," agreed Emma, taking in what he was saying. "It was worth a shot," she smiled, trying to lighten the conversation. "Thanks again."

Emma strode out of the car and up the stairs, opening her door carefully and quietly, hoping that would make a difference. Her mom had her back turned towards the stove in the kitchen, so to Emma's luck, it did. Emma creeped up to the stool and sat down as silently as she could, waiting for her mom to turn around. She seemed to be in her own world, humming and stirring something.

"Emma!" Mary Margaret flinched and covered her chest with her hand. "When did you get here?!"

"I've been here," Emma mustered as casually as she could. "For like, ever."

"Nice try."

Emma smiled and shrugged, knowing her mom wasn't really upset with her.

"Mom?" Emma asked, feeling slightly shaken and unusually confident from her outpouring to David in the car. He was right, it was her story to tell, and if she was going to tell it, she had to know where the main character came from.

"Yes?"

"I want to know about my dad."

Emma watched Mary Margaret's mouth open to speak, but no words were coming out. She closed it, then opened it again, and again, it remained open with no sound.

"Mom...," repeated Emma. "I want to know who my dad was. Just a name. I just want to know what his name was."

"I don't know," said her mother, and her words were so heavy that Emma was suddenly sure sadness carried a weight inside of it. Emma felt her heart sink past her chest and into her stomach. It made sense, of course it did, and still, she was not expecting it. She was sure that it was more than a one night stand, that she wasn't created out of a drunken mistake or stupid accident. She felt tears creeping up on her again, and she wasn't sure if she was overwhelmed or underwhelmed at the information she now had. She felt like she had to be alone, though.

"Emma," her mom called. "Please wait. I'd like to show you something."

"Can it wait? Until tomorrow? Please." Emma could feel her voice crumbling, and she was sure if she didn't get to solitude _right now_ she was going to start hysterically crying.

"It's important," her mom insisted, leaving the room. The curiosity she felt briefly suspended the despair, and she waited blankly for her mom to return.

Mary Margaret walked into the room holding a thin photo album, and on the front was a picture of Emma as a baby.

"A photo album of me? I've never seen this before. Is my dad in it?"

"Well... no," replied Mary Margaret glumly, as if disappointed in herself. "I've been waiting to show it to you though," as she said the sentence, her eyes welled up, and Emma completely forgot how she was feeling previously. "I think it will answer some of your questions. I knew this talk was coming. I just wanted to wait until you asked, until you were ready."

Emma stared at her mom, then cautiously opened the large, thin, white scrapbook. On the first page it just said _Emma, 10/22/1983 _in her mom's handwriting. On the next page, there was a single newspaper article about a found seven year old boy appearing out of the woods. The rest of the pages were full of articles pertaining to the little boy and reports saying police believed there was a baby involved but evidence hadn't been found. Beside that, there were various pictures of Emma as a baby, a very young newborn, and under each one was a caption with a certain time span and a brief summary. Things like _Emma ate very well today, she's making amazing progress now, _or as the time passed to her early childhood, _Emma asked about her dad today. _

"What is this?" Emma asked, completely baffled, skimming the first article about the little boy for any relevance. It was dated the day after she was born.

"On October 22nd, 1983, I felt like I was in a haze. I remember feeling confused and disorientated. Then a little boy with bright orange hair knocked on my door."

"This boy?"

Mary Margaret nodded. "He never told me his name. He showed up at my door holding a tiny baby wrapped in a blanket embroidered in purple with the name Emma. He looked very shaken up and scared. He told me he brought me my baby back, and no matter how many times I told him I didn't have a baby, he insisted. He begged me to take care of her, saying over and over he was doing what was brave, true, and right, and how in order for him to do it I had to take the baby."

"So. . . you took the baby?"

"I told him to come inside, that I would call someone to help, but he shook his head and told me I couldn't. He was wearing the most peculiar clothes. I asked him if he knew where his parents were and he looked startled that I asked, then nodded his head. He said he had to go back to his papa, and he seemed pleased with himself for finding me. I let him go, I thought he was going back to his papa, I don't know what I was thinking. It was stupid, idiotic of me. I had no idea why he chose me, but I figured he must have found a baby somewhere and not known what to do. I thought maybe he saw me somewhere and was trying to make sense of finding an abandoned baby. I figured he'd go home after, and I'd drop the baby off at- well, the next day this was in the paper."

"So... he didn't know his parents?"

"No," said Mary Margaret. "I shouldn't have let him go. I tried looking for him and finding what foster home he was in, but I didn't know his name, and they just couldn't put two and two together for me."

Emma scrunched her eyebrows, trying to soak up the information. It hadn't really hit her yet, what her mom was saying.

"And the baby?"

"I was going to bring her to a state home the next day, but I couldn't stop thinking about what the boy had said about her being mine. And I just... I looked into her eyes and I could feel that I was supposed to be with this little girl. So I went to Mr. Gold, and I adopted her."

"And it's me? I was the baby... I'm. . . adopted. . ."

"Technically, yes, but-"

"But you're my... you're my mom," said Emma breathlessly.

"I'm still your mom," Mary Margaret said firmly. "That's never changed and that will never change. I've always been your mom. He brought you to me for a reason, Emma. He said he was bringing my baby back to me. We were supposed to be together, I know it."

"Why did you keep this from me?" Emma demanded.

"I didn't keep it from you! I just was waiting for the right time to share such a story. It isn't exactly bedtime reading material!"

"How could you let me think all this time that you were my mom?!"

"I AM your mom!"

"You're a liar!" Emma yelled through hot tears. "Everyone's a stupid liar!"

Emma wanted, she realized, less than anything else in the world to be alone now, and yet she had never felt more so. She survived the taunting at school because she knew she had her mom. She grew up feeling a deep bond between her mother and her, since it always been just them in the equation. There was a connection between them that no one else had. But she was wrong, she had been wrong all this time. It was somewhere else; it was with her birth parents. Birth parents she didn't even know. She wondered what her real mom looked like. Was she blonde like her? Was she young when she was born? Did her father leave them or was there a tragic accident? Did her real father even know she existed? Her brain felt so overwhelmed with possible scenarios she felt buzzed.

"Emma!" came a tapping on the door. "Please don't shut me out now. Just talk to me."

Emma felt her lips quivering when she heard her mom's voice... the person she thought was her mom... she wanted more than anything for her to come in her room and lay with her. They would lie in her bed and they didn't have to speak, because it was enough to know that they were a team. When Emma lost the science fair in fourth grade, when she tried to give her first pet fish a bath and was crushed by the guilt of Swimmy's death, when she tried to kiss her first crush on the playground and he ran away from her, when she was accepted into the national honor society at her school, when she scored the winning goal in her soccer match. They were a team. Every heightened emotion Emma had ever felt, she remembered ending the day laying with her mom, either happily chirping about life's excitements or letting the silence fill in the sadness. She felt so overwhelmed and lonely.

"Emma, please. We have to talk more about this."

"I don't have anything to say to you!" Emma snapped, lifting her head off her bed. Emma was scaring herself, her chest was jerking up and down so fast from trying to keep her cries silent. She was sure that she breathing in every ounce of hatred and anger she had ever felt and swallowing it. To her dismay, and her anger that her mom had never gotten a lock on her door no matter how many times she had asked, she saw a creak of light from the hallway as her door slid open.

"Please, Emma," her mom said, closing the door quietly behind her. Emma knew the sight of herself wasn't a pretty one. Her eyes were strained and tired and surely bloodshot, and her cheeks were full of color and heat from her rising body temperature. Trails of dried tears were leaving their mark on her face, and if she had to bet on it, she'd say her hair looked like it hadn't been brushed since the beginning of time. "Don't hold this in," her mom instructed. "Yell at me, tell me you hate me, whatever you want. Just don't keep this inside you. It's the worst thing you can do."

"Why would I tell you anything!?"

"Because," her mom said, sitting on her bed, and as much Emma wanted to pull away, she didn't. "When something hurts you, you have to let it out. If you let it swell inside you, it roots itself there and it becomes a part of you. And after that, every time you grow, you have to grow around it. So let it out, give me your worst. There is nothing you could say that would be worse than you having to live with this resentment forever."

"I didn't get in a food fight," admitted Emma out of nowhere, her voice cracking. "It wasn't planned. Anastasia dumped cheese sauce in my hair then hit me in the face."

"Why would she do that?" said her mom seriously, visibly trying to maintain an even-temper.

"She thinks I like her boyfriend, or that he likes me, I don't know. She's been torturing me all year and she's making everyone else hate me. Even Avery won't talk to me in public anymore. She leaves horrible notes on my locker and she even started calling Avery's house phone and saying horrible things. I don't know how to make her stop," Emma cried, "I don't want her boyfriend. He approached me. I thought it was just a mistake, because we were both blonde, but I got so embarrassed that I ran away and when I came back he was telling everyone that he turned me down. I should have never gone to that stupid football game, if I just stayed home, none of this would be happening! I'm so stupid, I ruined everything, and now I have no friends and I never will. No one wants to be my partner in class and even when I get the right answers they find a way to make fun of me. There's nothing I can do!" Emma's voice was full of utter desperation and despair.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" said Mary Margaret, holding her hand against Emma's cheek, as if she was to let go, everything would fly in to the room and hurt Emma all over again.

"I don't know," cried Emma, feeling like she purged herself of a terrible weight in her stomach by finally sharing everything, and her feeling of relief outweighed everything else she had felt in the past twenty four hours. "It just always seemed so stupid."

"Nothing that happens in your life is stupid." Mary Margaret had a serious tone, then studied Emma carefully. "I'm so sorry."

"Why are _you_ sorry?"

"For not telling you the truth sooner. And for not pressing you harder. I knew something was wrong. You had always enjoyed school, then all of a sudden this year you asked me every other day to stay home. You came home with some type of sticky sauce in your hair and stopped hanging out with friends. I knew something was going on, but I told myself if it was serious you'd tell me. I shouldn't have let this go on so long."

"There's nothing you could have done, M-" but Emma cut herself off before she said mom, remembering what she now knew. It was quite clear to both of them why Emma had stopped, and Emma ignored her mom's hurt expression because it made her feel a weird twinge of guilt.

Mary Margaret nodded in understanding, then to Emma's surprise, pulled her towards her into a hug. Emma sank into the familiarity of her mother for a few moments before pulling away and standing up.

"I want to find my birth parents," said Emma solemnly.


	5. Chapter 5

The moment Emma had been dreading all weekend had come, and it was only Saturday morning. There was no way around it. Taking a deep breath, she summoned all the courage she had in her and opened her mouth.

"Um... Mary Margaret?" Emma tried, but the name tasted bitter in her mouth, wrong, like saying blue when referring to a deep shade of red.

"Emma."

"Sorry," Emma apologized quickly. "I just didn't know what to say..."

Mary Margaret opened her mouth the familiar way she did when she wanted to say something, but was holding herself back. Instead she nodded and focused on the fruit she was cutting up and putting into a blender. She put a little bit more force than intended into chopping the stems off strawberries. Emma wished she hadn't said anything. She had been dreading capturing her mom's attention, dreading have to call her anything. For two days she had simply waited for her mom to look at her, or called out hey!

"We're still going, right?" asked Emma uncertainly, shattering the silence floating between them, where the lingering feel of Emma calling her mom by her name was still filling up so much space that it felt suffocating.

"Of course," said Mary Margaret, giving a thin smile.

"I'm sorry," Emma repeated.

"Don't apologize, sweetie," her mom assured her. Emma nodded, still feeling tense and uncomfortable and extremely nervous. Her mom had made a special appointment with the mayor to talk about the town's files and see if they could find anything. Emma had asked her mom, but she said she never really tried looking before.

"Maybe we shouldn't go," suggested Emma.

"Why would you say that?"

"I don't know, I just, maybe it's not a good idea. We should just forget, I don't care anymore."

"Of course you care."

"No, I don't."

"You're being silly, Em. Of course you care. It's okay to be nervous about it, but you can't run away when it happens. If you don't stop running, eventually you're going to run out of places to go. You don't want to get that point, you don't want to hit a wall that leads you only backwards."

Emma squeezed her eyes so tight she felt the skin pull around her lids, then nodded in agreement. She did want to do this, she didn't want to run away. Wordlessly, she took the tall glass her mom was offering her full of a pinkish smoothie made up of strawberries and bananas. She tried to swallow, but gagged as it went down.

"Hey!"

"Disgusting," Emma declared. "I want some chocolate cake."

"You promised you'd try eating healthier!"

"The deal is off! This is unbearable!" Emma gagged as big of a sip as she could fit in her mouth, but still the glass looked barely touched.

"Finish it before we go," Mary Margaret bargained, now washing down the counter. Emma made sure to clearly roll her eyes before plugging her nose and swinging her head back, letting the rest of it slither down her throat. It took her a good fifteen minutes to finish.

"I need a water! I need processed sugar and chocolate!" Emma got up and scrambled around the kitchen as if the house was burning and she was calling for help.

"You are the most dramatic person I know," said Mary Margaret, shaking her head behind a chuckle. Emma ignored her and gulped a water bottle down. She was completely unsatisfied with her breakfast, but she was too nervous to eat more.

"Are we going?"

"Are you ready?"

Emma thought about the question for a few moments, then thought about what her mom said about running away. She didn't want to hit a wall, and she most definitely did not want to run out of places to go. She had to keep moving forward, no matter how much the path could change without warning.

She nodded. She was ready.

Her mom held out her hand, and Emma remembered doing this so many times before. Every first day of school, every talent show, every big event in her life. Her mom would hold out her hand, and they weren't just two people anymore. They were a force to be reckoned with, they were unstoppable.

"Thank you so much for meeting with us," said Mary Margaret, extending her hand to shake with the mayor. Emma was still holding tight to her other one.

"Of course," smiled a tight lipped Regina. "How can I help you? I mean, what exactly are you guys looking for?"

"I want to find my birth parents," Emma spoke up, squeezing Mary Margaret's hand even tighter now, sitting in the seat next to her.

"Your... birth parents?"

"Yes. I'm adopted."

"You are?" said Regina, in what seemed like a pleasantly surprised tone.

"...Yes."

"Right. Of course. Well, I'm not sure how much I can help you with that. Unless your birth parent was a resident of Storybrooke and had you at the hospital here, I'm not sure why it would be in our records."

Crestfallen, Emma quickly recovered. "Right. Obviously. We should go now," she said, looking over at her mom.

"Could we take a look at some of the files of Storybrooke residents that gave a baby up for adoption?"

"I'm afraid that's classified personnel information. I can't just hand over residents files for you to freely browse."

"Let's go," Emma insisted, pulling her arm. Mary Margaret nodded and stood up to move in the direction she was being pulled. She thanked Regina again for her time before they got to the other side of her office door.

"I'm so sorry we didn't find what you were looking for, Em."

"This was so stupid. So, so stupid."

"No it was not. We'll find a way."

Emma shook her head before the idea crossed her mind. For a fleeting moment, she considered it, then tried to shake it off. And still, it kept creeping back towards the front of her thoughts.

"What about the Sheriff's office?"

"Hmm?"

"The Sheriff's office," Emma clarified. "He has a bunch of records, he told me! I bet David would help us out WAY more than Regina!"

"Oh, Emma, I don't know..."

"You're the one who said there was a way!"

"I know, but-"

"Can we just try? See if he's there?"

It didn't take more than a few minutes of walking in the cool air before getting to the Sheriff's station. They were greeted by a strong voice behind them right before they walked in the building's front doors.

"Emma? Haven't you ever heard of a day off?"

"David!" said Emma gleefully. Something about his voice reminded her why she trusted him so much to help. It was a warmness inside her, an instinctive trust that was completely absent from their meeting with the mayor. A feeling that David would want to truly help her. "We came for official Operation... Fudge business."

"Operation Fudge?"

"I've been thinking about chocolate fudge a lot lately..." Emma explained with a shrug. "I don't think the mayor wants to help, so we need to keep this on the down-low. But I need to find my real parents."

David noticed the flinch in the woman Emma introduced as her mom at Emma's use of the word real.

"Operation Fudge... don't you mean finding your dad?"

"Well both, actually," Emma explained, ignoring the puzzled look from her mom at David's knowing. "I was adopted. I just found out."

"Oh."

"But my m- uh, we are going to look for my birth parents together," explained Emma, looking at Mary Margaret, who nodded affirmatively. "Can we look at the files?"

"I'm sorry, Emma," David said sincerely. "I can't just let you look at sensitive files. I'll tell you what I can do though," he said, making Emma look up from her glum reaction to his news with curiosity. "We can go to the hospital and you can get swabbed for a DNA test, and I can check, off the record, if there are any matches."

Mary Margaret opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted.

"Thank you, oh thank you! You're the best, David! I promise to do my best work on Monday, you won't regret this."

She watched her daughter's reaction and thought about saying something, but decided to hold her tongue.

"Should we go right now? David, you're coming right?"

"Well I- I suppose I'm technically off duty right now."

A smile crept across Emma's face, and she used one hand to pull David and the other to pull Mary Margaret, forgetting the loneliness she felt, forgetting that she would have to deal with everyone in school on Monday, forgetting that she was ever angry. She forgot the real reason she was pulling them- to find her birth parents- because she suddenly felt whole, surrounded by love and completeness. It was a wonderful feeling, filling her up to the very brim of her body. And it continued that way as she glided through the hospital, getting her cheek swabbed, holding her mom's hand and David standing a few paces back.

"Is there a bathroom around here?" asked Emma, looking at the nurse who was bagging her cheek cells.

"Right down the hall," she smiled. "Take a left at the end of the hall. Girls bathroom will be on your right. Alright, well I think we're all set. We'll send your results to the station within two weeks."

"Thank you," said Mary Margaret and Emma repeated it, hopping off and then telling her mom she was going to the bathroom. Mary Margaret told her she'd wait for her in the waiting room, and Emma left, while Mary Margaret gathered up her things in Emma's bag.

"It was really nice of you to come," said Mary Margaret, looking at David, seemingly trying to figure out why exactly he _would _come.

"Oh, it was nothing. Emma is really a great young girl. You did a great job with her, although, if I'm being honest, I'm surprised she was adopted. You guys look alike."

"Really? We've never heard that one before."

"Your smile," he confirmed. "And your chin."

"Coincidence, I guess," Mary Margaret smiled sadly at the thought. "She was abandoned on the side of a road. A little boy brought her to me. I just... whoever her birth parents were, well, they have a lot of things to explain if they ever get to meet her."

"That's despicable," said David angrily. "I don't know how she ended up in your hands, but it seems meant to be. Maybe the world just knew you were supposed to be together," he smiled, a smile that Mary Margaret found quite charming, and continued. "There's something special about her. I just want to make sure she's okay."

"Well, I'm glad she found someone so great to give her her first job," smiled Mary Margaret, tilting her head a little to really notice David for the first time. He was undeniably handsome, and obviously cared about Emma, and had clear values.

"You said you'd be in the waiting room," said Emma in a bored tone, sticking her head through the doorframe.

"Right. Sorry, David and I just got to talking."

"Oh. That can't be good."

"It was!" laughed Mary Margaret.

* * *

><p>The next week passed in somewhat of a dusty haze for Emma. She was completely confused to her position in school. The taunting seemed to be dying down, but then, all of a sudden Anastasia would appear out of nowhere and torment her over something ridiculous, like the color of the belt she was wearing. She found herself caring less and less about what was happening with Anastasia. Another brunt of the force was Ella, Emma was noticing, and she had started wanting more and more each day to work up the nerve to start a conversation with her. She was really smart and hardworking, and Emma was intimidated, even though Ella didn't seem to have many friends.<p>

She found herself looking forward to the police station, where she had been everyday after school. Though the initial excitement wore off, and she stopped running there when the last bell rang and instead took her bus home and ate a snack first, she still highly looked forward to it. The paperwork wasn't as exciting as she had expected it to be, even though David had told her not to expect it to be at all. Graham was often out doing the fieldwork for David, but when he was there, it was like a big group of friends hanging out and laughing. Emma had endless questions about homeschooling, feeling more and more every day that it seemed like a better option. She had started to look at David already as a role-model, a person she admired deeply. He was kind and patient with everyone, even the crazy people who came in with ridiculous complaints that made Emma roll her eyes. Tonight was her last night, the day she had been actually dreading, because it was the weekend and she wouldn't be back until Monday.

"Bye David, bye Graham!" Emma called glumly, picking up her backpack that hung from the wooden coat rack by the door.

"Bye Emma, see ya Monday."

"Yeah, see ya."

As soon as Emma walked out, Graham shifted nervously in his seat.

"David?"

"Yes?" David was filling something out, seemingly very absorbed in what he was doing, too.

"Emma's results came back and I ran them through the system. There was a match."

"A match? Are you serious? In Storybrooke?" asked David, completely forgetting whatever he was doing before. An awful thought occurred to him. "Why did you wait until Emma left to tell me?"

"So the people in the system are our staff members, of course, me and you and the hospital staff. Why is that, by the way? Anyway... us, and criminals. Or anybody who's had any minor trouble here."

"Right. . ." said David, imagining the very worst criminals as Emma's parents. Living here in Storybrooke? He couldn't think of anyone that dreadfully awful...

"Sheriff," Graham said, swallowing, as if he was trying to contain all his courage in doing so. "I don't know how but... Emma's match was you."


	6. Chapter 6

It was obviously a coincidence. Did DNA coincidences happen? But living in the same town? They did sort of look alike. . . The doctor at the hospital mistook him for her father. . . could he be right?

He felt a special connection to her since she walked into the police station. He had a desire to protect her, to help her. He thought he was just being a decent human being. . .

How could he have forgotten having a daughter? And who could be Emma's mother? Her mother must not have told him. He thought back to what he was doing fourteen/fifteen years ago, but his mind was like looking through a glass of water. No clear pictures were coming to him. He must have been with someone... but he just had no memory at all. How was we going to tell Mary Margaret and Emma?

Mary Margaret would surely hate him after the story she told him of Emma's birth parents... if she thought that he knew about leaving her on the side of the road... and how could she not? He would just have to be honest, that's all he could do. But what would Emma think? What did he want her to think? He had no idea. Was he ready to be a... father? He barely knew Emma, still, he had felt such a deep connection with her. If he was her father... he couldn't even entertain the thought... but if he could... it would make sense. In fact, it made more sense than anything else he thought of to explain it.

He couldn't remember anything from what he was doing fifteen years ago. Was it possible he was with someone and she got pregnant without telling him, then left the baby to die? He couldn't bear the thought... he could have raised Emma all these years. But no, could he have? He didn't have the first idea of what it meant to be a father. He didn't have any idea how or what he was going to do.

* * *

><p>Emma was hanging upside down off her couch. Her legs were at the top, her head hanging in front. She could feel the pressure of all the blood rushing to her head, so she adjusted her neck to rest on the foot stool in front of the couch. The picture on the television was upside down, but she really wasn't watching anyway. She was thinking. Her mom was at a conference with a bunch of other teachers until later, so even she had something to do on Friday night. She had finished all her homework within an hour of getting home from the police station, and now she had an entire weekend of freedom ahead of her with no idea what to do. There was nothing on t.v. that was capturing her attention. With a burst between courage and boredom, she flipped herself off the couch and reached for the phone book on the shelf under the table their phone was on.<p>

As it rang, she thought about hanging up, was about to do it, when a curdling cold sound picked up and made it too late.

"Hello?" came a woman's voice.

"Hi, um, hi."

"You said that already," said the woman harshly.

"I'm sorry, uh, is, uh, is Ella there?"

"Ella?"

"I'm sorry, I must have gotten the wrong number. I was looking for a girl I go to school with, her name is Ella..."

"You've got the right number." And then Emma heard the phone being set down. She wondered if it was an accident, if she should hang up, or if she was going to get Ella. She didn't even know if she wanted Ella to pick up the phone, although, the curiosity had gotten the best of her now and she wanted to stay on the line just to ask Ella if that woman she had spoken to was her mother.

"Hello?"

"Ella?"

"Yeah... who is this?"

"Oh," said Emma, embarrassed. "This is Emma. We have a few classes together."

"Oh, Emma. Yeah, I know who you are."

"Oh."

Emma stared at the wall for a few moments, trying to think of what to say. What she was feeling was beyond awkward.

"So," Emma began, clearing her throat. "I just called to... see if you were busy."

"Busy? Like right now?"

"Yeah."

"Not really. Why?"

"Do you want to hangout? You could come over if you wanted. You could sleep over. My mom won't mind, she'd be happy I have friends."

"Really?"

"If you wanted, sorry, I think this might be weird. I just... Anastasia made my life horrible at school for months and I see her tormenting you now and I just... I don't know. Nevermind, this was stupid."

"So you don't want me to come over?"

"Oh no!" Emma clarified quickly. "I mean, you can if you want."

"Okay. Where do you live?"

Emma gave her her address, then hung up with Ella's assurance that she'd be over in an hour. As soon as Emma said goodbye, she raced up the stairs to start cleaning her room. She had to think of stuff to do with Ella, she didn't want it to be awkward like it was on that phone call. She was carrying a bundle of dirty clothes bigger than her head towards the laundry room when the doorbell rang. It had only been ten minutes... it couldn't be Ella already. Running to the laundry room, she dropped her pile on the white tiled floor then ran to the door.

"Who is it?" Emma asked, trying to look through the peephole, but she could never align her eye up quite right to see anything out of it.

"It's me, David. I have to talk to you."

Puzzled, Emma unlocked the dead-bolted door, something that she still did every time she was home alone because she got superstitious.

"Is everything okay at the station?" asked Emma worriedly and eagerly. "Did a big case happen? Do we need to go out and investigate?"

"No... uh... no, Emma. Something much more important. Is your mom home?"

"What's more important? No she's not..." Emma glanced at the clock on the oven, "actually, she's supposed to be home any minute. But what's going on?" Emma looked at him for signs of the news that was coming. "Are you dying?" she added as an afterthought.

"No," he laughed, somewhat tensely. "I'm not dying. It's just some important information I came across. Uh, we should wait for your mother."

"Okay David, you can sit down if you want. I'm going to finish cleaning my room, I have a friend coming over, you don't mind do you?"

"Oh no, of course not, no," said David awkwardly, wondering if this would be the first time of many Emma would be asking him permission for something. No, he was being ridiculous, even if this whole thing was somehow real, it wasn't like he could just swoop in and act like he'd been her father her entire life. Obviously he was second to Mary Margaret... even though biologically...

Emma looked at him oddly, but ran back up the stairs to finish cleaning her room. She couldn't focus anymore though, and her cleaning task seemed to take double the time. She tried to imagine what David could possibly be talking about? What was more important than police business? What involved her, her mother, and David? Her mind was completely perplexed. In the middle of making her bed, she heard her mom's voice and the front door closing behind her. She abandoned her bed and ran down the stairs as fast as she could, practically tripping over her own feet, but it was too late.

"David... Hi."

"Hi, I'm- I came- to uh-"

"He has something important to tell us. He's been waiting for you so we would both be here," explained Emma, watching the confusion on her mother's face only intensify at Emma's clarification. In response, she shrugged, signaling to her mom that she had no idea what it was about either.

"Right..." said David, clearing his throat. "It's about Emma's DNA results. They came back and we ran them through..."

"Was there a match?" interrupted Emma eagerly. "Oh gosh, I don't want to know! Don't tell me, I don't wanna know."

"Emma, you should know..." said David softly. Emma looked from David to Mary Margaret. Her mom's eyes were filling up with tears rather quickly, but she was brushing them away as fast as she could.

"I don't want to know," said Emma firmly. "I don't."

"Emma, are you sure this is what you want?" Mary Margaret asked, wiping her eyes as quickly and discretely as she could. Emma nodded, keeping eye contact with her mom. _I'm 100% sure, _she told her mom telepathically. _I don't want to hear it. _As if her mom heard her message, she nodded in understanding of Emma's wishes.

"Okay," said David in between breaths. "I'm going to put it in a folder and lock it up in a file cabinet. If you ever change your mind... if you ever want to know... you come and let me know, okay? It will be there waiting if you decide you changed your mind."

Emma nodded appreciatively. "Nobody else knows, right?"

"Graham does," answered David honestly. "But trust me, he won't mention it."

"Okay," smiled Emma weakly. She felt like something was twisting inside her stomach. David knew who her parents were, or maybe just parent, but it was more than she knew. Still, she also felt a sureness that she had made the right decision.

"Well it was nice getting to see you," said David, then turned to Mary Margaret, "sorry to intrude on you on a Friday night. See you on Monday, Emma."

"Oh, please! Thank _you_ for coming by on your own time."

"Yeah, thanks David," added Emma with a smile. "See ya Monday."

As soon as David closed their door, Mary Margaret sat down and pulled Emma's hand to sit down too.

"What's up?"

"Nothing's up," replied Emma casually. "I have a friend coming over, though. She should be in like half an hour. I told her you'd be okay with it, are you?"

"A... friend? Really?"

"Don't act so surprised," said Emma irritably.

"I'm not! I'm just happy for you! Of course I'm okay with it, what's her name? Is she in your year? How do you know her? Is she nice? Is she-"

"Mom! Her name is Ella, we're in the same grade, yes she's nice... I forget the other questions. Please don't act this crazy when she gets here."

Mary Margaret hid a small smile and nodded.

"We _should_ talk about what happened with David, though."

"I just didn't want to know," said Emma dismissively. "It's nothing. I realized I was being stupid about this whole thing. _You're_ my mom. You've always been my mom. I don't want anyone else." Emma tried to keep her voice calm and collected, but emotion tugged at it and it was only made worse by the expression on her mom's face when she finished. She couldn't breathe, her mom was squeezing her so tightly. "Okay, okay..." spit out Emma, trying to breathe. "I have to finish cleaning before Ella gets here."

"You know I won't feel like you're betraying me if you do want to know, right?"

Mary Margaret squeezed Emma's face before letting go and kissed the middle of her forehead, causing Emma to groan over her embarrassing display of affection after nodding in response to her question. When Emma was finally able to move towards the stairs, free of her mother's hugs, the doorbell rang again.

"That's her! It must be her, oh goodness, I don't even know what we're going to do!"

"Relax," laughed Mary Margaret. "I'm sure you two will figure something out."

"Right. Okay. Yeah, you're right, okay," Emma assured herself, wiping her hands on her pants and walking to the door. She opened it with a big smile, excited that she had actually come, that she was actually going to hang out with a friend. Avery had acted like Emma didn't even exist anymore.

"Hi!" Emma exclaimed before she saw who was on the other side of the door. Her heart quickened, and she was sure she was in a horrible dream. In fact, she was pretty sure she had nightmares like this before.

"I'm sorry Emma," explained Ella. "She wanted to come. My stepmom made me bring her."

"We're going to have SO much fun bonding tonight, Emmy," said Anastasia, giving a wicked smile.


	7. Chapter 7

"Don't call me that," muttered Emma, feeling completely and utterly defeated. She couldn't exactly turn them away. She had invited Ella. The woman she spoke to on the phone must have been Ella's stepmom. She seemed cold, but didn't she have any proper manners? You can't just invite someone to another person's house for them.

"I'm really sorry," Ella repeated, standing in the doorway still next to Emma, while Anastasia had already welcomed herself in the apartment.

"What a cute, tiny, little shed you live in," said Anastasia happily. Emma could almost see the ideas for new taunts forming in her head. She wanted to cry at how stupid she had been. She was almost out of the woods with her at school, she knew it, and she just ruined it all by giving her new material.

"You didn't tell me you guys were related," Emma said more harshly than intended. She was angry, and blaming Ella for not warning her seemed like the easiest option.

"I don't exactly parade the information," explained Ella. "We're not related by blood. Her mom married my dad. We're stepsisters."

"You could have warned me."

"I'm sorry," Ella repeated sincerely. Emma felt guilty for being angry with her and a sudden rush of sympathy because Ella had to live with her. At least Emma could forget about Anastasia when school was over.

"Let's go up to my room," suggested Emma, leading Ella to the stairs and climbing them two at a time. Anastasia was busy talking to Emma's mom and Emma was hoping they had a few minutes before she noticed their absence. Ella followed silently, clearly embarrassed.

"I'm really sorry."

"Are you going to say that all night?" asked Emma. This question seemed to embarrass Ella even even further. "Sorry," said Emma quickly. "Just... don't feel bad. I know it's not your fault. I just... am surprised, is all. If Anastasia is your step-sister, why is she so awful to you?"

"She's hated me since her mom married my dad. Her mom hates me too. Our parents met when we were five. Drizella was seven, and believe it or not, she's even worse than Anastasia."

"Seven...? So she would be... sixteen now? Why isn't she in school?"

"My step-mom took her out because she complained about how hard it was. I don't doubt that's what will happen with Ana too. I can't wait for it. They don't think school is important, but I want to go to college. If I ever said that to them though, they'd laugh in my face."

"Why would they laugh at you? That's a great dream to have."

"They would tell me I'm too stupid, or that I would never be successful with it. They think a girl's only job is to marry someone rich."

"They're idiots," decided Emma. "If they're so awful to you, why does your dad stay with her?"

"Emmy!" came a voice bursting through the door. "You didn't tell me you were going upstairs."

"Because you weren't invited," spit Ella under her breath. Anastasia smiled and ignored her, glancing around the room. Emma could almost see the wheels spinning behind her eyes.

"You know what Anastasia," said Emma matter of factly, suddenly feeling very defensive of her room and her house. "I really don't care what you think."

"Yeah?" she laughed.

"Yeah. You know what? I don't care at all. You can say whatever you want. It honestly doesn't matter. Go ahead and tell everyone I live in an apartment, or that my room is small, or that I have a geeky mom. They're all true and I love every single one of them. I'm proud of all of that, and you can't take that away from me. So go ahead, I won't fight you. I'll proudly agree. My apartment and room are small and my mom gets too excited over things in my life because she loves me and cares about me. And you know what? All those horrible things you said about me, I don't care anymore. None of them are true. I know that, and my new friend Ella knows that, and everyone who I care about knows it, and so I don't care what anyone else thinks. You can say whatever you want about me, but that still won't make it true. Your boyfriend is a creep who tried to hook up with me and I turned him down and he was too embarrassed to admit the truth. No matter what name you call me, you can't change that. So get out of my house or-" Emma stopped and took a breath, barely acknowledging Ella's and Anastasia's eyes locked on her and waiting for what she was going to say next. "-or just be nice," Emma finished in an exasperated tone.

Ella's hand shot up over her mouth to cover the smile erupting on her face, but her smile was too big, and it was creeping up beyond her hand. Anastasia was as frozen as an ice sculpture, obviously completely blindsided by Emma's defense. Without saying a word, she turned hotly on her heels and stormed all the way out of the apartment, blatantly ignoring Mary Margaret's calls from the kitchen. Emma and Ella were still looking at each other with pleased expressions in their eyes when Mary Margaret wandered up the stairs and towards the doorframe of Emma's bedroom a few minutes later.

"Why did your friend leave?" asked her mom, a sincerely confused expression on her face.

"She felt sick," remarked a straight-faced Emma, trying her best to ignore Ella, because if she didn't she would break out in giggles.

"Oh goodness," said her mom. "I hope she feels better. Do you guys want any snacks?"

"No," Emma said, shaking her head and looking at Ella for confirmation, who was shaking her head as well. "We're good for now. Thanks Mom," smiled Emma, feeling a deep gratitude for her geeky mom after sticking up for her to Anastasia.

"Alright then, I'm going to head off to bed. I trust you two will not be too loud?" warned Mary Margaret, earning shy smiles and nods from both of them. When she left, Ella sighed loudly and flopped down on Emma's bed.

"Your mom is so nice," said Ella, staring at the ceiling.

"She's okay," joked Emma, sitting up next to her. "You never got to answer my question though. If your step-mom is so awful to you, why don't you and your dad leave?"

Ella lost the dreamy look in her eyes and sat up.

"My dad left. My step-mom won't tell my why. If I ask, she only says that he was useless and that it doesn't matter, because she has all his money now, and that's all she needed."

"That's disgusting."

Ella nodded. "I think he's out there. I don't know how, but she did something. He wouldn't just leave," said a teary-eyed Ella. "I know he wouldn't. I have these flashes of him spinning me around in this giant room when I was really little, and I was in a ballgown, and I feel like my mother is there and smiling from the side. It feels so real, like I'm still there. I can still feel that moment, like I was surrounded by people who loved me more than anything in the entire world and I just know he wouldn't leave me. I know it."

"Do you think we could find him?" asked Emma.

"I don't know," admitted Ella, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

"Well we might as well give it a try."

"We?"

"Of course," said Emma. "We're friends now, aren't we?"

* * *

><p>"This is Carey, Sophia, and Elsa," introduced Ella, pointing to a dark brunette, a strawberry blonde, and white blonde sitting at the round lunch table. Emma had moved her spot in Chemistry on Monday morning to sit with her new lab partner, and her and Ella agreed to meet up at lunch to sit together. "And those guys are Kyle, Clark, and Ben. Ben is Sophia's boyfriend. They've been dating since they were twelve."<p>

"We've met," said Kyle playfully. "We were lab partners before she ditched me."

"Sorry," Emma flushed.

"It's fine. Ella's much cooler than me anyway."

"Exactly," smiled Ella. "We're all hanging out at Elsa's after school. I have to be home at six to do all my extra course work, but usually they're still hanging out when I leave."

"Yeah, my little sister can be a pain, but we usually just ignore her."

"It sounds fun," replied Emma. "But I can't. I work at the police station after school."

"You do?"

"Yes," said Emma enthusiastically. "Every day."

"Isn't that boring?" asked Carey.

"No."

"It sounds cool," said Clark.

"It is."

"So Emma," Sophia asked, changing the subject. "I heard you stuck up for yourself to Anastasia."

"You did?"

"Yeah, everyone heard. It's why she isn't in school today," added Clark.

"She's not in school today? Because of me?"

"Well yeah," said Elsa, and before Emma could respond, the last lunch bell rang. She only had one period left. Looking down at her tray, she realized she hadn't even touched her food. She scarfed a handful of soggy fries down her throat and gulped her apple juice before throwing the rest of her lunch away. She said bye to the group and walked with Ella and Elsa to her class. Alex and Kyle walked in the opposite direction, Carey walked on her own, and Sophia and Ben stayed behind for some leisurely activities together. Elsa and Ella were in the same last period class, so she said bye to them at the end of the hallway and told them she'd see them tomorrow. She was feeling extremely overwhelmed at all the new friends, even though she was grateful. She _was _grateful. But she couldn't wait to go to the police station with the familiarity of David and Graham, and laugh the way she had when she had no friends and no one talked to her.

Somehow that felt easier.

* * *

><p>"How did she take it?"<p>

"Don't worry about it Deputy," said David distractedly. He had to keep his mind focused. Emma was coming, and if he thought about it too much, he didn't think he'd be able to act normal around her. How could he not tell her? Of course he had to respect her wishes. Or did he? Wasn't his job to do what was best for her, even if she didn't know what was best for her? She was only fourteen, surely she needed a father. What was the best scenario? That Emma never knew who he was? Or that she found out that he knew all this time and never said anything? Neither of those options seemed like one that he could live with.

"You did tell her, right?" asked Graham, bringing David out of his own mind.

"I'm going to leave a stack of paperwork here," said David, ignoring Graham's question. "Tell Emma to file it and she can go home. Stay with her unless something urgent comes up. I have to go."

"Okay but... where are you going?"

But David ignored him, he was already out of the door.

He waited outside her apartment for almost two hours before he saw her car pull up. He wasted no time, he knew he would lose his nerve, so he closed his door and walked to her car before she had even opened hers.

"David... Hi. What are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to you. Will you have dinner with me?"

"What's this about?" asked Mary Margaret. "Is Emma okay?"

"She's fine. She's at the station filing papers with Graham. Will you please have dinner with me? It's important."

* * *

><p><strong>Note: <strong>Thanks for the reviews! Don't forget to let me know what you're thinking. Almost always I take what people say into consideration of the story. I have a general idea of where I'm going but I definitely fill in some details with what you guys say you want in reviews! Also... enjoy :) Thanks for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

"This is boring," yawned Emma, putting papers alphabetically into their folders in the filing cabinet.

"You have a boring job," teased Graham, giving Emma reason to narrow her eyes at him.

"Is David coming back? I was going to wait for him to say bye, but I have a lot of homework tonight so..."

"I don't think so. Sorry Emma."

"It's okay. Wanna play a game?"

"I thought you had homework."

"I do. So do you wanna play or what?"

"What game?" asked Graham curiously.

"Hmmm," said Emma, rubbing her chin with her pointer finger. "Truth or dare."

"No way."

"Come _on_ Graham, it will be fun. I'll go first."

"Fine. Truth or dare?"

"Dare," smiled Emma.

"Okay," said Graham, biting his lip in thought. "I dare you to call Granny's diner and ask for a pizza with pickles and bananas on top of it. And have it delivered to the Mayor's house."

"Ew!" exclaimed Emma, then thought about the task. "How am I supposed to do that?"

Graham shrugged, then looked in surprise as Emma picked up the phone and started dialing the number she had memorized since she learned her own phone number.

"Granny's diner, how can I help _you_ tonight?"

"Yes, hi," said Emma in a voice that sounded much like her nose was being pinched. "I need a large pizza. Yes, toppings, two. Pickles and bananas. What do you mean you don't have that for pizzas? Do you know who I'm ordering this for! The MAYOR of Storybrooke! If she wants pickles and bananas on her pizza, then she gets it! If you give her trouble, she'll shut down your entire business! Yes, I understand. Thank you for your cooperation. Yes, deliver it to the Mayor's house. She'll greet you at the door. Thank you. Goodbye."

As soon as she hung up the phone, her and Graham let loose the giggles they were holding in. Emma couldn't stop laughing at the thought of the Mayor answering the door to such a disgusting pizza after the way she had treated her and her mom.

"Okay," said Emma, collecting herself. "It's your turn. Truth or dare."

"Truth."

"You're so lame," joked Emma. "Okay, okay. Truth... tell me your biggest secret."

"Is that question allowed?"

"Anything's allowed," Emma shrugged.

"Okay," said Graham, his voice becoming much darker and quieter. "My biggest secret... Well, I'm not really home schooled."

"You're not?"

"No. I just told David that when I got the job. I had to drop out to support my mom... she got really sick last year and my brother ran off. I have to take care of her."

"Graham... that... that is a lot of responsibility to put on yourself."

"I don't have a choice. She needs me. You can't tell David, do you understand? He really looks out for me, he's a great guy, but he won't understand. He'll definitely want me to go back to school and I just don't have the time. I have to work as much as I can. I need as much money as I can get."

"Graham, I-"

"You can't tell him!"

"Okay, okay. I won't tell."

"Thank you."

Emma smiled at Graham, realizing for the first time the weight that he was carrying around him on every day. Suddenly she didn't see him as her competition anymore. She wanted him to succeed. He could be the new Sheriff.

"Excuse me... can I help you?" said Graham suddenly, looking at the door. Emma turned towards where he was looking. In the entrance there was a hollow-looking man, with tousled mousy brown hair and deep red circles surrounding his empty eyes. She had no time to think before she saw him lifting something out from underneath his jacket.

"Emma!" shouted Graham, jumping towards her. "Lookout!"

* * *

><p>"David, what is this about?" said Mary Margaret, her voice markedly more worried than it was before they rode to the restaurant in silence. "David!"<p>

"Can we order first?"

"I thought you said this was important!"

"It is!" defended David. "I just... please."

Mary Margaret shook her head and followed him in through the door he was holding open. She smiled and greeted Granny then sat down at a booth, David sliding in across from her.

"Can I start you guys off with some drinks?" asked Ruby, the diner's waitress.

"Just water, please," said Mary Margaret, eyeing David.

"I'll have the same, thank you," said David, avoiding eye contact by staring at Ruby too long. Mary Margaret felt a twinge of jealousy, but quickly brushed it off. There were obviously bigger things to worry about...

"You know I don't remember moving here," started David, looking seriously at a blank spot on the table. "More and more lately I've tried to remember, but I can't. I know it must have been over fifteen years ago, but for the life of me, I can't remember it actually happening. I don't even remember when I decided I wanted to become a policeman. It seems like something someone should remember, doesn't it? I just have been going through every day and I just... I don't know if something has happened to me, but I can't remember anything about my life before being a Sheriff in Storybrooke. I just never really thought about it before Emma."

Mary Margaret nodded. "Emma has that effect on people... you know, I feel like my life really began when she found me..." she drifted off, smiling at the memory.

"Yeah," said David awkwardly. "She does. I've never really thought about any of this stuff before. But when Emma just showed up... Anyway, it's about the DNA test. I think you should know, even if Emma doesn't want to."

"I- Emma doesn't-"

"I know, but-"

"Sorry," Ruby said, approaching the table meakly. "Are you guys ready to order or do you need a few more minutes?"

David and Mary Margaret looked at each other, each waiting for the other to speak.

"I think I'm all set, are you?"

David nodded, and Mary Margaret placed her order, followed by David. They both thanked Ruby and handed her their menu's, then looked at each other in an awkward, tangible silence.

"David," said Mary Margaret, taking a breath. "I understand you did Emma a favor by running it through your system, and we are both extremely grateful for that and I don't think we could ever be able to fully express it. But Emma changed her mind. For whatever reason, she doesn't wish to know the identity of her biological parents. I really urge you to respect that wish, and if you can't, I'll have to rethink the permission I granted Emma to work after school at the station. I do hope you can understand where I'm coming from."

"Of course I do," replied David. "I completely understand. You're just trying to protect Emma... you're just being her mother... just being a parent. Of course you are..."

"David, are you okay?"

"No," said David, his voice quite airy. Emma is my-"

"Oh my!" shouted Mary Margaret, standing up and looking through the glass door and windows towards the main road. "What is going on?!"

David turned immediately and saw an ambulance firing down the road and loud sirens surrounding. Puzzled as to who was behind the sirens if it wasn't him, he immediately got up and walked towards the door.

"Do you know what happened?" asked David, looking at Granny and in the general direction of anyone who heard him. The owner of the diner shook her head and shrugged. "Mary Margaret, would you mind accompanying me to the hospital? I assume that's where the ambulance is going. I just want to see what's going on, I still... I still have things I need to talk to you about."

"Okay," nodded Mary Margaret, unable to deny her own feelings of curiosity.

The ride there was not filled of awkward silence, but of curious chatter and unreasoned guesses to what was happening. Once in the hospital doors, they were pushed to the sides by busy nurses and rushed doctors.

"Jane Doe, age between 13 and 15 approximately. Blonde hair, fair skin."

"Do we have a young girl working at the Sheriff's station on any documents?" a booming voice demanded. "Nancy, who's your guy?"

"Graham Humbert. Age sixteen. Works as Deputy to David Nolan. A bullet in the stomach. He's in surgery now."

"Excuse me, do you belong here?" came a voice so close to Mary Margaret it made her jump. She was absorbed in the conversation she was overhearing that she forgot she was actually existing, still taking up space. She felt weightless, like she was floating in midair.

"I-I am... the Jane Doe... I think-"

"I'm the Sheriff," interrupted David. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"Oh I'm not sure if I'm supposed to do-"

"Then find me your boss," he demanded.

Mary Margaret thought she was going to faint. David looked serious and angry, more so than she had ever seen before. A doctor, who looked very self-righteous and important, walked over to them, and only then did Mary Margaret realize she had been leaning on David for support.

"How can I help you guys?"

"I'm Sheriff David Nolan," said David, reaching out his hand to shake. "There was a crime that took place in Storybooke?"

"Yes, well, would you like to sit down?"

"I'd rather not, actually."

"Of course. Well, there was an intruder in the Sheriff's station at about 4:47 in the afternoon. He carried a .38 colt underneath his jacket and aimed at the two persons in the station. Your deputy, Graham Humbert, and an unidentified young girl were victims in the attack. The shooter has been found and taken into custody thanks to the brave little girl in the shooting."

"What do you mean by that?" pressed David.

"Well, she hasn't woken up yet, so we don't have the story from her yet, but we received a 9-1-1 call directed to the hospital at 4:52 in the afternoon. She didn't say her name, only that there was a shooting at the Sheriff's station and someone was hurt. She explained she had pretended to be dead to fool the shooter, and that he didn't get who he was looking for and was after someone else in the town and we had to hurry. After that the line went dead."

"Oh my god..." said David breathlessly, realizing for the first time that it had been Emma and Graham actually involved. Mary Margaret's hand was clamped over her mouth, and her eyes were glossy with fear.

"It's Emma... it's my daughter! I need to see her!"

"Ma'am... she was lucky, but she still sustained serious injuries. When she wakes up, there's a very good chance she's going to need surgery. The residue bullet from the male victim grazed her shoulder, mere inches from her spinal cord."

"How is this... happening..."

"Can she see her?" asked David.

"Of course. First we need to set her up to be identified, then we need to do the paperwork for identification. Then you can see her, no problem."

"I don't have time for that!" shouted Mary Margaret. "I need to see my daughter!"

"We'll take you to her to be identified..."

"Mary Margaret, just do what they say. It will be quicker. I need to go see how Graham is doing. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

Mary Margaret nodded with a blank look in her eyes and followed the doctor that had explained the situation to her. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine this. Just yesterday she was sitting on the couch with Emma, stifling about work and school, watching programs on the t.v. until Emma had gotten up with a yawn and announced she was taking a shower. Just this morning she had tried to get her to drink another smoothie and laughed easily when Emma gagged it down again, shouted I love you through the passenger side window as Emma walked towards her school, thinking about what they were going to eat for dinner tonight. With a pang of self-hatred, she remembered dreading having to make dinner because she didn't know what to make. Never for a second did she consider herself lucky for getting another chance, another night with her daughter.

If she needed any painful evidence that it wasn't a horrible dream and was actually happening, she had it in identifying Emma's restful face. Her eyes were closed as if she was dreaming peacefully, but her face and arms were still covered in dried blood. Her arm was stationed in a sling over her bed, and her blonde hair was in messy knots around her face.

"Emma," said Mary Margaret softly, sitting on her side with her good arm, so she could hold her hand in both of her own. "Keep fighting for me."


	9. Chapter 9

**Note: **Sorry if the updates take a little longer now! It's the final few weeks of the semester, so it gets busy. Thanks for your patience, and as always, your reviews! They always have a magical effect on how fast a chapter is posted!

* * *

><p>Mary Margaret couldn't breathe. The air was hot and thick around her, and people were shouting and pushing crash carts quickly and running back and forth. Emma's monitor was beeping, but Mary Margaret was in denial about that particular detail.<p>

"She needs surgery, she's infected-"

"She won't survive another surgery!"

"No choice, she has to-"

"She's not strong enough..."

Mary Margaret was shoved a permission slip to sign, and for a moment she could pretend it was a field trip to a museum or business office and not to an operating room that could be the last place her daughter would lie breathing. She scribbled her name, the doctors were yelling in her face in different directions that this was her only option, that she might not make it with it, but that she would most definitely not make it without it.

The waiting room was cold and lonely, even after David joined her with two cups of hot chocolate from the hospital cafeteria.

"Don't give up," he said quietly next to her, much calmer than he was when she last left him. She sipped her hot chocolate slowly, wondering how he could be so positive.

"It's not me I'm worried about," countered Mary Margaret.

"Excuse me? Ms. Blanchard?"

"Yes, that's me," Mary Margaret shot up so fast, she had almost knocked her hot chocolate out of her hands and onto David's lap.

"Emma is in surgery still, she's doing good. She's strong," smiled the nurse. "She's losing a lot of blood though, we've called for more but she doesn't have-"

"She can have my blood," said Mary Margaret quickly. "I'm O, the universal donor."

"That will help," smiled the nurse, putting her hand out to guide Mary Margaret to whatever roomed seemed to be the one where you got blood syphoned out of you.

"I can give blood," said David quickly to both of their backs. "I mean, how much does she need? More than one person can give, probably?"

"We could use as much we could get... I'm sorry, though, are you an immediate family member?"

"Yes," said David firmly. "I'm her father."

"Excuse me?"

"Yes," said David, trying to make eye contact as casually as he could. He was staring at the button on Mary Margaret's jacket. It was brown and round and had four little circles in the middle of it. The string was sticking out of the top right hole, someone should tell her that before it came undone...

"What are you playing at?" said Mary Margaret harshly.

"Emma needs blood, I can give it to her, it's why I wanted to talk to you. The DNA tests, I was her match." David spoke quickly and matter-of-factly.

"No... but..."

"Please, let me explain it all to you after."

"We don't know if you're even going to be a match," the nurse explained. "But we can test you. There's a good chance you will be. Blood from both of you might just save her life."

* * *

><p>David felt woozy. He didn't know how light-headed you really did feel after giving away a pint of blood.<p>

"Here," said a nurse sweetly, handing David a cracker and cup of juice. David tried to say thank you, but he was pretty sure it came out as unintelligible sounds.

"Where...Emma...okay?"

"Emma's in surgery, they brought the blood. You need to rest for a few minutes then we'll bring you back to the waiting room."

David let his eyes close for a few moments, but was woken up by a cold instant shock of pressure on his face. When he opened his eyes, he saw Mary Margaret standing over him, looking red-faced and confused and shaking her right hand as if it stung.

"What the hell was that?" asked David, feeling slightly out of his body and trying to remember if he had already given blood.

"I don't know," admitted Mary Margaret. "I'm sorry. I just always pictured doing that to Emma's birth parents."

"Right," said David, rubbing his cheek and remembering the abrupt end to their conversation. "I am so sorry, Mary Margaret. I'm sorry you found out like this, I'm sorry I didn't tell Emma right away, but you have to believe me that I never knew. I didn't know I had a daughter, and I most certainly would not have abandoned her. I can't even remember who I was with fifteen years ago, so I don't know who her mother is. I just... it's like a blank hole in my memory. But I didn't abandon her, Mary Margaret, I didn't know."

"Okay," whispered Mary Margaret, so softly it was almost completely inaudible.

"Okay?"

"Okay," she repeated. "I believe you."

"You do?"

"Have I been left with a better option?" she questioned, then lowered her voice. "Besides, I trust you."

"You do?"

"That doesn't go for Emma," she clarified, sitting down unsteadily, clearly still feel the after effects of losing a pint. "I don't... I don't know what we're going to do. Emma said she doesn't want to know, and she deserves the respect of her decision being honored. But on the other hand, if she knew who it was..."

"She'd want to know," finished David.

"And if she finds out in a few months, or a few years, she might feel very betrayed we kept it from her."

David nodded, having thought about this option himself. "So what do we do?"

"I don't know," admitted Mary Margaret, looking around the room, as if the walls were going to spring alive and guide her in the right direction. "Right now we go the waiting room and wait for good news, then bring Emma teddy bears and flowers and be happy we still have the option of worrying about this at all."

Nodding again, David followed Mary Margaret out of the room they were lying in full of comfortable chairs and different types of snacks.

"Mary Margaret..." trailed David, "I know you're her mother and the only parent she knows. I don't want to come in between that. But I want to be a part of her life. And I'll fight for it if I have to."

"Let's not worry about that just yet," replied Mary Margaret, glancing back and giving him the first real smile he'd seen in days. "I think we'll be okay."

* * *

><p>Emma had been bored out of her mind all day. Her mother had been by her bedside since she woke up last night, crying tears of relief when Emma woke her up by muttering "mom?" under her breath. Emma had started crying like a baby over a chocolate cookie, and her mom kept telling her that she couldn't have one because the doctors said the anaesthesia hadn't worn off and her stomach was still asleep. But Emma didn't like this answer, and thrashed in her bed until her mom promised she'd get her a cookie. The doctors said she'd probably throw up, but to get it for her if she really wants it. Emma didn't throw up.<p>

Of course, she didn't remember any of this happening. But her mom had told her this morning with tears of laughter brimming at her eyes, although Emma had an inkling they were tears of relief too.

"Do you remember what happened?" asked her mom casually, as if she was asking what she wanted for breakfast.

Emma shook her head. She didn't want to talk about it. She wanted to laugh about chocolate cookies and make her dancing stuffed teddy dance and sing over and over again. A little after three o'clock, when Emma was begging her mom to break her out of the hospital, she saw familiar faces behind the glass doors of her hospital room.

"Ella!"

"Hey Emma!" called Elsa, holding a stuffed flower in a pot that if you pressed down on it, it broke out in a chorus of _you are my sunshine, my only sunshine._

"Thanks for coming," smiled Emma, taking the fake flower pot out of Ella's hands. "And thanks for coming Sophia, Elsa, and..."

"Anna," said the redhead standing slightly behind Elsa. "Is it true you got shot by a gun?"

"Anna!" scolded Elsa, then turned to Emma. "I'm so sorry, she's tactless. She just turned 12. Anyway, we brought you your homework."

"Thanks," groaned Emma insincerely, thoroughly disappointed at her lack of an excuse to do it. "Hey, where's Carey?"

"Oh, she couldn't make it," explained Sophia with a shrug. "She said she was busy."

"Oh." Emma tried to hide her disappointment. She just met them, anyway, she couldn't expect them all to rush to her bedside.

"HEY!" called Kyle, leading Clark who trailed behind him, who was also holding a bouquet of flowers. "Now the party can get started!"

"It's not exactly a party," laughed Emma. Her mom excused herself to go to the cafeteria and asked if Emma wanted anything, to which Emma declined.

"Ben couldn't make it either," explained Sophia, watching Emma's eyes trail behind Clark. "He had a huge project assigned in Spanish class. I'm going over later tonight to help him a little."

Emma nodded in understanding, suddenly feel really grateful she had any friends at all. Thinking of her friends, the thought of playing truth or dare with Graham crossed her mind, and she realized she hadn't asked how he was yet. She made a mental note to ask when everyone left and she was alone with her mom again.

"So, you'll never believe what Mr. Aloisi did today," Ella began, giggling before she could even recall the tall.

* * *

><p>"Perhaps I should find someone more suitable to the task," said the man, staying eerily calm, though you could hear the frustration leak out in the tiny corners of his voice.<p>

"I'm plenty suitable," the second man grunted.

"Really?" he challenged, the frustration was pouring out quicker and heavier now. "Because all you did was shoot a couple o' kids. You had one target, and you measly good-for-nothing couldn't even get that."

"They got in the way, I di'int have a choice! I'd like to see _you_ do any better."

The first man narrowed his eyes at this challenge.

"If you want your daughter back, you'll do what I say. This is your last chance, if you mess it up again, I won't bail you out. Shoot David Nolan, don't stop and don't come back until it's done."

The second man nodded.


	10. Chapter 10

"Another day or two, Emma," replied her doctor calmly. In response to Emma repeating her question a thousand times, asking when she could go home, the doctor had kept a surprisingly patient tone.

"I feel fine."

"Yes, I know, but you had a pretty major surgery. You're making excellent progress, though, so there's some positive news."

Emma huffed, for it was not positive enough. Spending the better part of a week in a hospital was extremely boring. Even with her friends visiting most of the days after school, they really could only stay for an hour or two because of their own homework and lives to worry about. She couldn't blame them, but she still looked forward to their visits. Ella had come most often, usually prepared with something to do. So far they had embroidered pillows, braided hair, and beaded friendship bracelets. Emma was easily starting to consider Ella her best friend, but didn't want to say anything, because she was afraid of coming on too strong and ruining the whole thing as quickly as it started.

"So," Emma had brought up casually one day when Ella had come alone, "how was Anastasia? Did she ever give you trouble after our sleepover? Once you left Saturday and I realized you'd have to go home to her, I felt awful. I've been meaning to ask ever since..."

"Oh, don't worry about her," said Ella briskly. "They don't bother me anymore."

"They don't?"

"Why would they?"

Emma shrugged, for she had not had an acceptable answer to give, and the conversation dissolved, with neither parties being able quite to think of what to say next. Ella apologized, said she had an extra amount of homework that night, and left soon after.

This day was dragging on particularly long, since it had just survived the morning uphill battle and was now only a few minutes past noon. No possibility of friends for over three hours, if they were coming at all...

Her mom and David were sitting in her room. David was sleeping, her mother was filling out puzzles in a book full of word games.

"Mom?"

"Yes?" said her mom, immediately putting the book down.

"Nothing. I just- I was wondering why..."

"Wondering why what, sweetie?"

"This is going to sound stupid," said Emma, lowering her voice. "But why has David been staying here so long? I mean, I know he's a good guy and cares, but we've only known each other for like a few weeks. He's always here whenever you've had to leave... I mean, I appreciate it..." Emma lowered her voice even further and eyed David, who was still asleep upright in his chair, "I just was wondering why."

"Well," said her mother, clearing her throat to buy some time. "You're a special girl, Emma, I've always told you that."

"Yes," said Emma, rolling her eyes. "Yes, as my mother you've always made sure I felt

_very_ special. But that doesn't answer my question about David."

"Well, maybe I'm not the only who sees it," replied her mother dignifiedly. "I'm sure he feels guilty about what happened to you and Graham. Maybe he blames himself for leaving you two alone."

"How could he have known? Of course it's not his fault! Oh! I've been meaning to ask- how is Graham, is he, like, okay and everything?"

"I think so," said Mary Margaret, trying to hide the relief she felt at the change of conversation topic. "He made it out of surgery okay."

"And he's... going to be alright?"

"Well, let's hope," smiled Mary Margaret as cheerfully as she could muster. She felt her smile waver, and hoped her daughter had not noticed.

* * *

><p>"Bring me a cup of tea," the man ordered the young girl, who was trembling in fear in front of him. "Watch it!"<p>

"I'm sorry," the girl answered quickly. Her hands shook so fiercely that the tea moved like there was an earthquake under her feet.

"Enough! Stand still!"

"I-I can't."

"You can't? Do you have no control over your own self? That's a very dangerous thing to admit, you naive twat."

"No one has control over their body, it's silly to think otherwise. Not even you can control when-"

"Shut up! Place my tea down in front of me and be gone."

"You don't have to be so mean," said the girl abruptly. "Maybe if you were nicer, you would have friends."

"I don't wish to have friends, you idiotic girl."

"Everyone wishes to have friends. Say please, or I'm not giving you your tea. I'll- I'll smash it!"

"Anger me, and I'll kill you," said the man, narrowing his eyes in a way that said _try me. _

So the girl did, try him, and instead of placing the tea in front of him, threw it to the ground with satisfaction. She did not tremble, and she did not run. She stood silently still and waited for what was to come.

* * *

><p>"David," hissed Mary Margaret under her breath. Even though Emma was asleep, and they stood outside her room, she was terrified of being overheard. "You can't stay here. Emma has started becoming suspicious."<p>

"I can't just leave her. She's my daughter, and she's been hurt."

"If she's your daughter, then do what's best for her! She's been through enough!"

"You know what?" countered David angrily. "I'm starting to think you don't want to tell Emma the truth because you don't want to share her! You want her all to yourself, and you're worried Emma and I will have a connection that you will never have because we're biologically related!"

Mary Margaret looked abashed at this accusation, and physically took a few steps back, so the inches between them became a solid foot. As soon as she stepped back, she realized the heat that had been coming off of both of them.

"_You_ know what," said Mary Margaret holding her hand up as if she was asking for a high-five. Her voice was much calmer and even-toned. "You have a lot of nerve to talk to me about parenting when your daughter was found abandoned on the side of a road."

"I'm sorry," said David suddenly. "You're right. I shouldn't have said that. I know you're only trying to do what's best for Emma. I've never seen so much love in someone's eyes as I do when I watch you looking at Emma. I should be grateful... I should be thanking you endlessly."

Mary Margaret nodded, trying to keep the quick-forming tears from spilling out of her eyes.

"I'm sorry too," she added. "I shouldn't have brought that up. I shouldn't have used it against you. You deserve to be a part of her life, too."

"Thank you," replied David so softly it was barely audible.

"I think we should wait until she's out of the hospital, though. She's suffered a severe trauma, watching her friend get shot and having to pretend to be dead to save him. I think we should let her get back into a normal routine before we drop another bomb on her."

"She's going to want to come back to work at the police station," reminded David.

"I don't know if that's a good idea."

"Well one things for sure, I wouldn't leave them alone again."

"You know it isn't really your fault... right? There was no way you could have known or prevented..." Mary Margaret trailed off when she saw Emma, sitting up, alert and awake in her bed. Mary Margaret nodded her head towards the door and walked in the room, David following closely behind.

"What were you guys talking about?"

"Excuse me, Emma!" reprimanded Mary Margaret. "It's not polite to ask two adults having a private conversation what they were talking about."

"Uh, why, is it a secret?"

"Emma!"

"Whatever," said Emma. "Hey I was thinking, while you guys were out having a passionate secret discussion, could I go visit Graham? I mean, is he taking visitors? Since I feel better and all." Emma was looking at David, and when Mary Margaret followed her gaze, he knew they were both expecting an answer from him.

"Uh, yeah, I don't see why not. I bet he'd be really happy to see a face other than a nurse or a doctor."

It took quite longer than Emma would have liked to get a nurse's permission, and to acquire a wheelchair, in which she _had _to travel in so she wouldn't sue the hospital. Finally, with a blanket from home covering her horrible hospital gown, her mom pushed her from behind as they followed David up two floors, and down so many halls Emma lost count.

David knocked first. A faint noise came from the other side that sounded much like a child whimpering, but seemed to constitute to him to open the door. Emma's mouth immediately dropped at the sight of her friend. His eyes were hollow and sunken, with red splotches covering them in round circles. His hair was untamed and greasy, and from his shoulders to his waist was completely covered in bandages.

"What... happened..."

"He was injured, honey," said Mary Margaret calmly. "He was shot inches from the chest and lost a lot of blood."

"But... he looks..."

"He died before they got to the hospital," explained David. "They brought him back, but there was damage done."

"Hey," said Graham light-heartedly. "Would you all stop talking about me like I'm not here?"

The sound of his voice sent relief from the tips of her fingers to the ends of her toes.

"Sorry," gushed Emma, wheeling herself as fast as she could to sit next to his bed. "How are you?"

"Never better," he joked.

"Thank you," said Emma, smiling bashfully.

"For what?"

"Well, it's not every day someone jumps in front of a bullet for you, you know."

"Oh, that? Yeah, that's no big deal. A day-to-day thing for tough guys like me."

"I would hit you in the arm, but that would just feel wrong," teased Emma.

"The benefits of getting shot!"

"Shut up!" laughed Emma. "You know," she continued quietly, "you're not planning on going back to work after this, are you?"

"I have to, Em. My mom..."

"She can figure it out! You need to give yourself a break, you look horrible!"

"Please, try to contain you're insane attraction to me, you're giving it away too much..."

"Sorry," said Emma, turning scarlet. "I just... I don't want you to work too hard."

"I shouldn't have told you that stuff," said Graham, wincing in pain. Emma moved backwards, alarmed.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just need more medicine. Can you press the call button for me?"

"Emma," said her mom as Emma reached over Graham's head and pressed the dull red button. "I think Graham needs some time alone to rest now."

Emma nodded, saying bye before wheeling herself over to her mom, who took over for her.

"Mom," said Emma after a few moments of walking in silence with her. David had stayed with Graham, and they were trying to find their way back to Emma's room without getting lost. "I've been thinking."

"Oh no."

"I want to be home-schooled."

"Emma, don't be ridiculous. Do we take a right or left here?"

"I don't know. I'm serious, Mom. Please, I have no friends at school."

"Emma, you've had friends come visit you almost every day."

"Oh yeah. Well-"

"What is this really about, Emma?" sighed her mom, deciding on taking a right at the end of the hall.

"Okay, okay, _I_ don't want to be home-schooled. But you're a teacher, right? You must know high school things."

"Yes, I know _high school things_. I also work full time already."

"What about a few days a week in the afternoon?"

"Are you asking for extra school?" asked her mom in disbelief.

"Ew, no. No, I'm asking for a friend. Say this friend had to drop out to help a family member. Could you help him study to get his GED?"

"Yes, I suppose in theory-"

"Oh mom! You're the best!" Emma cut her off before she could talk herself out of it. "I'm sure he'll be up to it!"

By the time they had returned to Emma's room, she was exhausted. She refused to admit it to her mom, so forcibly kept her eyes open against her mom's smirk. Finally caving in, she let them start to droop... She felt a kiss on her forehead, her mom, of course... she dreamed of Graham's reaction when she told him she could help him get his diploma equivalency...

She woke up with a startle. Her mom was asleep beside her, but there was someone in front of her. Bleary-eyed and hysterical, she was hiccuping and puffing out her chest, trying not to cry.

"Ana... Anastasia? What are- how did you-"

"Emma, something terrible has happened!"

* * *

><p><strong>Note:<strong> As always, thank you for the reviews! I can't think of much else that makes me happier! As always let me know what you think, and if you have any predictions or guesses, I'm definitely interested in hearing them...


	11. Chapter 11

"Something terrible? How did you even get in here, Anastasia?"

"The window in the first floor bathroom. Once you're in, nobody really questions you. I told them that I got lost on the way to the bathroom and couldn't find my room, told them I was you, and they gave me your room. I guess cause we're blonde and the same age... really, it wasn't that hard."

"What the hell!" said Emma, unreasonably infuriated. "Get out of here! It's late!"

"No, Emma! Something terrible has happened to Ella."

"W-what do you mean? She was just here yesterday, we made friendship bracelets." As proof, Emma held up her hand to show Anastasia the tied yarn around her wrist.

"She hasn't been home for a week. My mom and sister are happy, they say she'll finally get what she deserves in the real world. But I think something is really wrong and I-I'm worried about her."

"Why should I trust anything you say?" accused Emma, suddenly feeling very un-trusting.

"You shouldn't," admitted Anastasia with sunken eyes. "But what if I'm right?"

Emma thought on it for a moment.

"Well, where do you think she is?"

"I don't know."

"Well then, what am I supposed to do?! I'm in a hospital for pete's sake! An armed man tried to kill me!"

"I know," said Anastasia patiently. "And I've been thinking on it. I think it has to do with Ella."

"You think Ella tried to kill me?"

"Don't be an idiot. Ella is barely more than five feet tall and a hundred pounds, even if she wanted to she couldn't. I don't know how it's connected yet, but I think it is somehow."

"If you have no reasoning..."

"Shut up, I'm thinking."

To both of the girls surprise, Emma stopped speaking and waited for Anastasia to say something.

"I don't know," said Anastasia after a long silence.

"You should go," said Emma suddenly. "If something is wrong, we should act like we don't know anything. So we should go on exactly like normal."

"How do you know that?"

"I watch a lot of _Criminal Minds_," Emma shrugged.

"This isn't an episode on a t.v. show," said Anastasia irritably. "This is real life."

"Emma?" mumbled Mary Margaret in a dazed, just-waking-up voice.

"Get out of here!" ordered Emma, and in what seemed like a blur of confusion, Anastasia ran out of her room and down the hall towards the bathroom.

"Emma? Who were you talking to?"

"Myself," said Emma a little too quickly. "I had a bad dream. A-about the shooter. I was telling him to get out..."

"Oh Emma," said her mother in a sad voice. "Nobody is going to hurt you anymore."

"I know, Mom, thanks," she tried to smile as convincingly as she could. In response, her mom held her hand, still wearing the sad, I-wish-I-could-help-you expression on her face.

The next fews days left an anxious weight in her stomach. She hadn't heard from Ella since they had made their bracelets, and hadn't seen Anastasia again, and was getting more and more worried. As much as she despised to admit it, she was starting to worry Anastasia was right. Then she would get angry with herself, reminding herself of all Ana said and did, and that she most definitely cannot be trusted. But what if she _was _right?

"You ready to blow this joint?" said her mom happily. She was standing behind her wheelchair for the last time, because Emma was finally discharged.

"I want to stop and visit Graham," answered Emma. "I still have to tell- talk to him about something."

"Right. Well tell him... or whoever your friend is... that we can do it Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at 3:30."

Emma smiled. "Mom, have I ever told you that you're best person in the entire world?"

"No need," she smiled. "I'm already aware."

Mary Margaret waited outside the hospital room while Emma excitedly wheeled herself in. Graham was watching a program on the drop down miniature television, and muted it as soon as he saw Emma. She was greeted with a wide smile.

"Hi."

"Hi," Emma smiled back, feeling warmness spread in her cheeks. That was a very bad sign, because if she could feel her cheeks getting red hot, it meant they were brightly colored. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," said Graham, holding a button on a remote that made his bed move in a sitting position.

"Good," she smiled. "Listen, I'm leaving here today, but I'll come visit you."

"You don't have to do that. You probably want to get as far away from this hospital as you can get."

"True... but I don't want to get far away from you." Immediately hearing how what she said sounded, Emma flushed and tried to backpedal. "I just meant, cause we're friends- I didn't mean- it wasn't like-"

"I know," said Graham laughing. "Relax tiger."

"Sorry," said Emma, her face so hot that Emma felt like she could cook an egg on her cheeks. "Listen," she said, desperate for a change of subject. "I was talking to my mom. You know, she's a teacher."

"Right."

"Well, I was talking about her helping you get your GED. She's going to give you lessons after school to prepare for the test. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at 3:30. So you can be a high school graduate."

"You told her!?"

"What? No! I didn't- I just mentioned that I had a fr-"

"Emma, I confided in you! It was my biggest secret!"

"I know, I just thought I was help-"

"If David finds out, he won't let me keep the job! If he finds out I was lying to him all this time..."

"But you'll be in school, you'll be taking classes! He'll understand why you lied, he won't fire you."

"You don't know that! I can't believe I told you," said Graham, shaking his head in the small motion that he could. "I don't know what I was thinking. It's my fault for forgetting how young you are. You can't be trusted to keep a secret. You're just a kid."

"I am not! We're only two years apart! I was just trying to help you!"

"Yeah, well, you don't know the first thing about helping someone. Just get out of here. I'm sure you can't wait to go home to your perfect little life."

"You don't know anything!" yelled Emma, biting her bottom lip to keep herself from breaking out in sobs. She used Graham's bed to give her a push start on turning around in her wheelchair. She wanted to say something more, she didn't feel quite finished with her argument, but Graham had already turned the volume back up on his television and was pretending to be grossly absorbed in it.

"Are you okay? What happened?" asked her mom as soon as Emma entered the hallway. Her mom was sitting casually, reading a Parenting magazine and the sight made Emma laugh a little.

"Aren't you like fourteen years too late to be reading that?" asked Emma, trying to wipe her eyes as nonchalantly as possible.

"Never too late. Besides, I already have been reading it... since you were a newborn."

"That is so you."

"What's going on, bud?" said Mary Margaret softly. "Talk to me."

"Nothing," said Emma soberly. "It's nothing. Can we go? I really... I want to just go home. I miss my bed."

Mary Margaret nodded and pushed her forward.

* * *

><p>David was having a terrible day. He was dropping and knocking everything over constantly. He had spilled a full mug of scorching hot coffee on his incident report of the shooting, had walked into his desk, and tripped over the crime scene yellow tape that blocked off the entryway to the office. He was trying to finish the paperwork so he could go back to the hospital and visit Graham, but he kept reading the same line over and over again. He couldn't comprehend anything. It was almost as if he was reading another language and trying to figure out what the words meant.<p>

His mind wandered to Emma, and more surprisingly, Mary Margaret. He wondered what Emma was doing and... what Mary Margaret was doing. He reasoned himself that it was natural to be thinking about Emma's mother, the person who raised his daughter. He was confused and had a lot of questions and was just looking for something stable. But even as he tried to convince himself of that, the relief of his explanation was very temporary. Within moments, the twisting, yearning feeling came back. He missed her when he wasn't with her. It was an odd sensation, one that felt familiar and new at the same time. He couldn't do anything about it, obviously, especially once Emma knew who he really was. I mean, what did he really? A happy, little family of himself, Mary Margaret, and Emma? He shook his head as if it would get rid of the thought and let a small laugh escape. He came back to reality with the sound of someone clearing their throat. He jumped in surprise, then looked towards the door.

"I'm sorry, the office is closed temporary. If you need something and would like to wait a few minutes outside, I'll be right-"

"Shut up!" said the man, raising his shaking arm. He held the gun out as if it was poison infecting his arm as he held it. His arm trembled and David for a moment entertained the chance of the gun dropping from his shaky grip.

"You don't have to do this..." said David, trying to keep his voice void of emotion. "We can figure something else out. We're on the same side."

"I'm not on anyone's side!"

"Well, I'm on yours. Just tell me what you need."

"I don't have a choice!" said the man, his voice layered with distraught. "Drop your weapon and show me your hands!"

Obediently and slowly, David let the gun he was reaching for in his belt drop to the ground. As he neared the floor, the man yelled again.

"Get on your knees!"

David obliged again, holding his hands up in front of him.

"I don't have a choice, man," the man repeated, shaking his head and quavering even more. "I don't have a choice."


	12. Chapter 12

**Note:** Hi! Sooooo sorry for the long stretch of time between updates here! With finals and holidays coming up, I'm so busy right now that I just haven't had the time to really sit down and write. The good news is I have only two weeks left before winter holidays, so hopefully I'll find some time!

Until then, enjoy! Let me know what you think, as always. Reviews always motivate me to find the time I need to write, if ya know what I'm sayin ;-)

* * *

><p>"You do have a choice! Listen to me, you do have a choice!"<p>

"I don't," said the man, his arm shaking so fiercely that his body began to shake with him. "You don't understand what I've been through, what I've lived through. The things I've seen... the things I've done..."

"I can help you," said David as steady as he could. "Whatever happened, I can help you. Just put down the gun."

"He's got my daughter," said the man, staring at his feet. Slowly, his arm dropped to his side. David kept his eyes locked on the gun until the man stretched out his hand, and the gun fell to the floor with a loud clatter. David tried not to jump at the noise.

"I'll help you," said David, walking slowly towards where the gun lay on the ground. "I'll help you find her."

"No! If he knows I didn't kill you, he'll kill her! Please! Just hide for a little while, please, I beg of you. Until I get my daughter back..."

"I-I... I can't just go into hiding Mr. er, what is your name, sir?"

"Tremaine," said the man, looking up to David now, with eyes full of tears. "If you don't go into hiding, he'll find a way to kill you, but he'll kill me and my daughter first. He always gets what he wants, I can promise you that. Please, for your own safety, you need to go off the radar for a little while. Everyone in this town needs to believe you are dead."

Instinctively, David's thoughts flew to Mary Margaret and Emma. He told himself they would be fine without him, but he was kidding himself when he tried to use that as comfort. There was never any doubt in that. Of course they would be fine, but would he? He was almost certain that he could not live with the fact that he would be leaving his daughter twice.

"Sheriff, you have family? Children?"

With hesitation, David nodded. "Y-yes, uh, I have a daughter. She's fourteen."

"Same age as my Ella," said Mr. Tremaine sadly. "Please, if you care about your daughter, you _will_ disappear. If you don't, he is sure to find everyone you love or care about and kill them, or worse."

"Worse than killing?" David seemed unconvinced.

Mr. Tremaine seemed unable to respond for a few minutes, and after what looked like a painful recollection of a particular scene, spoke. "He's imprisoned my daughter to use as a servant. She's been living with him for weeks, and the worst part is that she leaves every day for school and always has to come back."

"But why would she go back if she is released? Why would she not tell someone what is he doing?"

"Sheriff, you are an intelligent man, but you underestimate his power. He shows her pictures, gives her detailed accounts of what will happen to anyone she talks to for loose lips. I'm afraid he uses myself and my daughter against each other. Both afraid of inflicting harm on the other. I wish she would be free, wish she knew I would rather him after me and leaving her alone, but we haven't been able to speak for almost nine years... not since I was kidnapped."

David could not help but feel moved at the impassioned voice this man was speaking in, and something in the very core of his soul was telling him that he had no choice but to listen to him. The thought of Emma being used as a tactic to bring him harm gave him a powerful lurch in his stomach with the desire to protect her.

"Okay, Mr. Tremaine, say I listen to you. If I'm pretending to be dead, where do I go? How do I do it?"

"There's a trapdoor in the woods on the northeast side of town. It's about five miles from the edge of the library. It's hidden by a rock that says _Fate loves the Fearless. _Underneath will be a wooden door, and when you walk down the steps, there will be a small living area. It has enough nonperishables to sustain life for over a year."

"How do you know of this place?"

"I built it. For years now, I've been imprisoned, but every time I've been able to leave for short periods of time to do his dirty work, I've worked on it. I've had some help."

"From who?"

"That's of no importance. It's someone who was also wronged by this man. You'll be safe there. I am going to bring this man to justice and get my daughter back. As soon as I succeed, I will return to alert you of your safety."

"Up to a year?" said David, while shaking his head. "I'm not sure I can survive missing another year of my daughter's life."

"Another?" asked Mr. Tremaine, but brushed off the word as quickly as it was said. "Anyway, I am sure it will not be a whole year. It won't take long. I plan to attack when his guard his down after he thinks you are dead. It's my best chance. Perhaps a week or two at most."

"I need to call my family," said David firmly. "I need to tell them what I'm doing."

"I'm afraid that's not a wise decision," said Mr. Tremaine. "He'll find out soon enough, and the less they know, the less they have to hide if he comes looking."

David looked like he was in pain, and started to squeeze his eyes so tight to stop tears that he started to see colors.

How would he ever be able to explain, that as soon as Mary Margaret agreed to tell Emma who he was, he disappeared off the face of the earth? He was supposed to meet them tonight. Surely, she would think that he got cold feet, that he didn't want a part in Emma's life. That he was leaving her again.

* * *

><p>"What are you cooking all that for?" said Emma with a teasing smile. Though her mom was a decent chef, Emma always made fun of her when she tried to create big elegant meals, for she was so used to the tiny portions made just for the two of them.<p>

"I told you, Emma, David is joining us for supper."

"He is?"

"I told you when we were coming home from the hospital last week, I told you last night, and I mentioned it this morning."

"Whoops," said Emma. "I must have forgot."

"Mhmm, sure."

"Still, this is pretty over-the-top. This is like last years Thanksgiving when you burned the turkey."

"I did not burn the turkey!"

"Mom, it was on fire. Don't you remember? You were screaming at me because I never help even though you didn't even _ask."_

"Well, maybe you could have _offered_," countered her mom, remembering the horrible fire fiasco of last year.

Emma gave her mom a knowing smile and glanced at the giant rotisserie chicken in the oven.

"Could you be doing all this... becuase... you _like _David?!"

"Emma!"

"What?! Why do you act like it's such an unforgivable sin to like someone? You're allowed to have a crush, I mean, God, you haven't been with anyone, like ever."

"That's not true," defended Mary Margaret, then added quietly, "I've been with you."

"That doesn't count!" Emma yelled even louder, contrasting to her mom's tiny tone. "I see the way you guys look at each other and talk hush-hush all the time like you've constantly got these secrets that nobody but the two of you know. I see the way he looks at you, Mom, there's definitely something there."

"Oh Emma, sweetie, it's not like that," explained Mary Margaret, but even as she spoke, a seed of doubt had already been planted. Emma had said she saw the way he looked at her. "We've been talking about you."

"About me?"

Mary Margaret nodded shamefully, like she had just admitted to something she deeply regretting.

"There's been... a lot going on. That's why David is coming for dinner tonight. We have a lot to discuss with you."

"With me? But what does you guys liking each other have to do with me?"

"We'll explain it as best we can when he gets here, for now, would you please set the table?"

Emma nodded robotically, as if she was trying to understand what she had just heard, and picked up the plates and silverware as if it was one giant step-by-step system.

When she finished, she sat at the table set for three, thinking about what they could possibly have to tell her. Were they already secretly dating? Maybe married? That seemed unlikely, it was her mom, after all, the most practical person she had ever known. Was it about her birth parents? But she had said she didn't want to know, surely they wouldn't bring it up again.

Emma wasn't sure how much time passed until her mom came to sit with her, holding the chicken with the saddest expression she had ever seen.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, and the question seemed to jolt Emma's stomach awake with gurgling sounds of emptiness.

"I'm starving, when is David getting here?"

"I don't think he's coming, sweetie. He was supposed to be here two hours ago, and I haven't got a call or anything."

"What?" asked Emma, alert and awake again. "What do you mean? Has something happened to him?"

"I don't think so, baby, I don't think so. I think he left town."

"But... but why would he do that?"

"Emma, the DNA tests... when they came back, we... we found out that David is your biological father."

Emma needed only a moment to process the information she was receiving. She looked her mom straight in the eyes.

"And he ran," replied Emma, nodding slowly.


	13. Chapter 13

"I'm so sorry, Em. I should have protected you."

"I can't believe... I was around him so much... How could I have not known?" Emma felt void of emotion. She stared blankly at her mother, as if she was going to answer her the way she had so many times before. But this question was not why the leaves change color, or why the boys in her class pushed her on the playground. There was no answer, nothing her mom could say, and she knew it. Still, she stared, hoping that her mom could say something that could fill up an emptiness that seemed to be draining more and more of her by the second.

"It's not your fault, sweetie. None of this is your fault."

"Do you think he knew?" she whispered, as if she said it too loud, it would be answered for her. "Do you think he knew I was left on the side of the road? Do you think he did it-"

"Oh Emma," said her mother, moving quickly towards her daughter. She put her hands over hers and held them. The warmness contrasted with the coolness Emma felt all over. "He's an idiot for missing out on you."

"It just doesn't seem like him," said Emma. She tried to stand up, but all the pressure left through her ears and made her head feel like a balloon, so she sat back down and let her hands slide back into her mom's. "I mean, I didn't actually think he was my dad, but I thought he could be."

At her mom's raised eyebrows, she clarified.

"I just mean, I thought he would have been a good father if I had been lucky enough. Like, I thought about it. But now... and he's... it just doesn't seem like him. And I'm a really good at reading people usually."

"I wish, more than anything, that you could have been right this time."

"It just doesn't make sense," repeated Emma, her voice as blank as the look in her eyes. The blue of her eyes were deep and lost, and for a moment, Mary Margaret stared into the ocean they had become, mesmerized by them.

* * *

><p>"Please," shouted Mr. Tremaine, pulling his hands so fiercely against the shackles that it weared the thin layer of skin left around his wrists down even further. "Let her go, do what you will with me, just let her go. He's gone, David is gone, I got rid of him!"<p>

"DO NOT LIE TO ME!"

"I'm not lying, he's gone," the man was practically crying, but trying to hold his ground.

The man smiled a sick smile from his seat at the long table, watching Mr. Tremaine struggle against the chains locking him to the seat directly across from him on the other end. He rang a bell while he watched him, and within moments, a blonde young girl came in carrying a tray of tea and a white apron.

"Here, Mr. Gold," said the young girl with her head bowed.

"Ella!" yelled Mr. Tremaine, pulling so hard that his skin burned against the friction of the chains. Every muscle in his arm felt sore from the weight of pulling. The girl did not move; for a moment, he thought she did not hear him. "Ella!" he screamed louder, his voice was pleading.

Her bottom lip trembled as she forcibly tried to ignore him. The tray of tea shook in her hands.

"Ella! Please look at me! Look at me! What did he do to you?"

"I have to go to school now, Mr. Gold," said Ella, clenching her teeth after she spoke to prevent herself from speaking again. Her eyes swept to the side, and a glimpse of her father sent weights down on her shoulders and chest. She couldn't breathe, couldn't move. One wrong word or glance would kill her father. After how hard she had worked to find him, she would not let it happen now. "I've already missed too much. They will start to notice."

"Very well," he said, smirking in a way that sent shivers up Ella's spine. "I'll see you precisely at 2:10, then. You know what happens if I don't, I presume?"

Ella swallowed and nodded, and pulled her green button-up coat off the rack by the door of the cathedral sized room. It was a reminder of where she had been before, it was an old one of Anastasia's, and with a pang she remembered she did not have it much better then than she did now.

She had been right, looking for her dad. After all this time. As soon as she was alone in the coldness of the autumn air, she felt tears forming quickly and falling down hotly on her cheeks. For the first time since she was five, she had seen her dad, had heard him. He called out for her. He never left her, he loved her, he wanted her. Once she figured out how to escape, they could be a happy family, they could live together and never would she have to see her awful stepmother or sisters again.

Though she felt heavy with burden, the idea lightened her a little.

"Ella!" called out a much sweeter voice, but the sound made her jump at the memory of her father yelling. When she turned, she saw Emma, walking slowly and leaning on one crutch.

"Emma! How are you? I'm so sorry, I haven't been visiting you... are you okay?"

"I'm fine! I'm worried about you!"

"Worried about me?" laughed Ella nervously. "You practically got shot!"

"But I didn't. Where have you been?" said Emma seriously.

"What do you mean, Em? I've been home, where else would I have been?"

Emma stared at her for a few moments, as if to give her a few moments to change her story, then decided not to bring up the information that Anastasia had given her, because she still didn't trust her fully and definitely not enough to accuse Ella of lying to her. She nodded and they walked to the front stops of the school and sat down, waiting for the first bell to ring.

"Did you hear that David left?" asked Emma.

"The Sheriff?"

Emma nodded, and Ella's mouth formed into an O.

"He left, like, town? But why?" asked Ella. "Was it because of the shootings?"

"I don't think so," said Emma, shaking her head.

"Then why?"

"I- I dunno," lied Emma, trying out her story for the first time. "I think something happened to him. You can't tell anyone."

"Wait, what? You think something happened to him? Why can't I tell? Why do you think this?"

As Ella finished her question, the bell rang, and both girls looked incredibly displeased at this horrible timing. They shifted around their bags and jackets until they were both standing, and ready to continue their discussion on their way to Chemistry.

"David was a good Sheriff. And now someone in the town is trying to hurt people. He wouldn't just leave when I-," Emma stopped herself and gritted her teeth, "-when the town," she corrected, "needed him. He wouldn't just disappear, I KNOW it."

"But... how do you know? Maybe he thought he was doing what was best for him by getting out of this town. If I could, I would," Ella shrugged. "I wouldn't blame him."

"He WOULDN'T!" argued Emma.

"Okay, settle down, Em. So he wouldn't, okay, then where is he? Being held hostage somewhere?" Ella tried to make it seem like a funny joke, but as they came out, the words were bitter in her mouth. She stopped and shifted her jaw, as if she needed to get rid of the words before they made a home in her mouth.

"I don't know, Ella," said Emma irritably. "I just know I have to find him. You still believe your dad is out there somewhere, don't you?"

"W- I mean, yes, I guess I-"

"Ella?"

"I mean, yeah. Yeah, I do," said Ella honestly.

"Then please," pleaded Emma. "Help me."

"I don't know how I can help, though. Have you talked to your mom about it?"

"NO," said Emma quickly. "She can't know about it."

"What? Why not?"

"She wouldn't understand, besides, this is _my_ mission. Are you going to help me or not?"

Ella sighed, unsure of how she could say no to the only person who believed in her when she talked about her father.

"Meet me after school! Oh thank you, Ella! I knew you would help."

Emma didn't give her the time to realize what after school meant, and that she could not choose between Emma and her father's life. Ella spent all day wishing for a perfect moment to explain a situation she could not explain, but none came.

Emma didn't wait for Ella after school, eager to run home and get to work before Ella got there, since Ella use dilly dallied around during dismissal. If she got started, they would be able to focus instead of goofing off.

When she got to the steps of her house, she stopped in front of the wheelchair sitting at the bottom.

"Graham?"

"Hi Emma."

"How did you get here?"

"I wheeled."

Emma let out a dry laugh. "I meant, why?"

"I was wondering, uh, if those lessons were still available."

"Really?"

"I want to better myself, Em. I really do. I've just never had someone that looked out for me before. It was weird to have someone care and worry about something that involved only me. I'm sorry I freaked out on you like that in the hospital. I was too harsh on you."

"Yes you were," said Emma, crossing her arms and looking away while she tried not to smile. She wasn't ready to let him off that easily.

"If you forgive me, I'll give you a ride on the handicap elevator in your building," Graham offered and smiled, patting his lap for Emma to sit down.

"Are you still hurt?" Emma asked.

"No," he shook his head. "I'm practically good as new. They told me to use the wheelchair for six weeks though, so I've still got some 'recovery' time ahead of me. I feel fine though," he insisted.

He patted his lap again for Emma to sit, and Emma pushed her lips from side to side for a few moments while she considered it. Finally, deciding that she wasn't angry anymore, sat lightly down on Graham's legs. He smiled and started spinning the wheels towards the ramp that led inside the building.

"You're going to help me study, right?" asked Graham.

"I've got things to do," said Emma distractedly, her arms holding on around his neck. She stopped and looked at him and felt a wind gust through her for a few seconds before breaking eye contact. She had never been that close to a boy, ever, except for Mikey, which was the biggest disaster of her fourteen years. Somehow she knew this was different.

"My mom's an excellent teacher," said Emma, standing up to open the door to their apartment. "You'll be great."

When she led Graham in the apartment, she almost forgot about her plans with Ella to find David. Until she saw Ella appear behind her as she went to close the door, tear stained through a muddy face and clothes soaked in blood.


	14. Chapter 14

Emma steadied herself and stared blankly for a few seconds before her senses overwhelmed her. For a few moments there was nothing, then there was everything. She could smell the blood coming off of Ella's skin, she could hear the sound of her mom's footsteps, she could feel the heat of Graham's hand wrapping itself around her wrist.

"What the hell..." said Graham.

"Are you hurt, honey?" This voice belonged to Emma's mother. "We need to get you to the hospital."

"No!"

"No?" her mom repeated.

"There's no time, please. My father... he's hurt."

"We'll get a doctor," insisted Mary Margaret. "Sweetie, you're covered in blood. Were you hurt?"

"No, it was my dad! You have to help, please, there's no time, he's going to bleed out!"

"Who hurt him?"

"He disappeared! We have to help now, we have to get him out of there before he comes back!"

"Emma, I need you to take Ella to the hospital. Do you understand? Take her straight there. Nowhere else. Ella, tell me where to go, I'm going to check on your dad."

"Mrs. Blanchard, let me come with you," said Graham suddenly. "I worked as deputy for a long time. I know what to look for to get whoever did this."

"Graham, you're still recovering from the attack at the station. I can't ask you to-"

"I understand, but you're not asking. I still can think I can help."

"If you're sure," nodded Mary Margaret before turning to Emma. "Emma, did you hear me?"

"Huh?" said Emma for the first time.

"Emma! Take Ella to the hospital. Do you understand?"

Emma nodded absentmindedly. With a gentle push from her mother, she ushered Ella towards the door. She still felt in another universe. Was it yesterday she had spoken to Ella about her acting out of the ordinary? Or a month ago? It seemed that all of her sense of time had disappeared.

"Emma?"

"Huh?"

"Are you okay?"

"Huh. Yeah."

"You're acting strange."

"Sorry," said Emma, shaking her head, willing herself to return to the present. "Sorry. What happened, Ella? How did this happen?"

"I- I was staying with him. For the past few weeks. I was doing everything he said, h-he's had my father locked up for almost ten years. My fifteenth birthday would have been the tenth anniversary, and I- he said that if I listen to him, he wouldn't hurt him!"

"So then what happened?" Emma pressed.

"I-I got there after school, just like always..."

"And?"

"It was my dad. That morning, he was tied up," Ella's voice spilled sorrow. "I ignored him, he was calling for me, I thought it would make Mr. Gold mad if I spoke to him. I thought he would hurt him, so I just ignored him. It was the first time I had seen him since I was five, and I pretended I didn't. I thought I was doing what was best."

"Of course," said Emma, opening the hospital door with furrowed eyebrows. "She was in accident, she needs to be checked out. I don't think she's hurt badly anywhere."

"What was the accident?"

"Uh." Emma glanced at Ella, who was looking down and brushing tears from her eyes. "She was hit. On her bike." When the lady turned and handed her a clipboard, they sat down in the waiting room and Emma continued. "That was so brave of you. To not talk to him when he was right there."

"No," Ella shook her head. "It's my fault. It's all my fault."

"Are you crazy? You didn't kidnap him! You didn't do this!"

"You don't understand, Emma! I've waited my entire life to see him again. To tell him I wasn't mad, that I didn't blame him, that I knew it wasn't his fault! When I didn't, he must have thought the opposite."

"I'm sure he didn't, Ella."

"You don't know what it's like!"

"What what's like?"

"What a father and daughter bond is like!" Ella yelled. Her face contorted into regret as soon as she heard her own words. "I'm sorry, Emma, I didn't mean that."

"No," said Emma. "You're right. I don't. I probably won't ever know. But I know that you're the first person in school that was nice to me and that you're incredibly smart and funny and kind, and no matter what you did that morning, I know your dad will understand as soon as he gets to know what an amazing person you turned out to be."

Ella threw her hands up and wrapped them around Emma's neck, letting herself dissolve into her own tears. Emma understood at that moment a truth she had tried to avoid. She was going to find David, and it was going to be a journey she had to take alone.

"Yes, of course I'm Ella Tremaine's legal guardian!" Ella's name attracted both of their attention in a voice so booming that it could only have been her stepmother. Emma craned her neck to see Anastasia and another girl that looked around the same age that she didn't know. Behind them was Emma's mother walking quietly, who scurried when she saw Emma peeking around the doorway of the waiting room.

As soon as she was in proximity, Emma swung her arms around her, feeling a rush of affection for her.

"I love you," Emma told her quietly.

"Well, I don't know where this came from," said her mother, returning the gesture and kissing the top Emma's head. "But I love you."

Emma pulled back and smiled. "I know."

Mary Margaret gave Emma's cheek a gentle squeeze and smiled at her daughter's response. "How is Ella?"

"She thinks it's her fault. Did you, uh, find her dad?"

"He's not in great condition," Mary Margaret said truthfully. "But he's alive."

"Good," Emma let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding when she glanced at Ella. She pulled her mom towards where she had been sitting. "He's okay," Emma said, and Ella erupted.

"Ella, this is good news!"

"I'm... crying... because... I'm...s-so... relieved. Emma... I'm... so... sorry..." Ella sniffed wetly.

"Don't worry about it, El," Emma assured her, ignoring the confused look she could see on her mom's face from her side vision. "I'm so happy for you. We have to find the man who did this, though. But.. not right now. Right now just be happy and enjoy having your father," Emma smiled sadly.

"You _will_ know someday," Ella squeezed her friend in one last hug and then walked towards her stepmother, who was signing papers to allow Ella to get checked out. Emma leaned her head on her mom's shoulder. She didn't have to tell her that she wanted to be here when Ella came out. She knew her mom already knew.

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><p>The walls were wood paneled, a dirty brown, and the air was damp and thick. It had been almost 56 hours since he had slept, and he had started to feel dizzy. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Emma, his daughter, crying over him running from her. Sometimes Mary Margaret was there, crying, telling her he had abandoned her and she had been fooled too, and they were crying together. Each time it felt stronger, worse. He paced in the small square of a flat and thought about his choices. Trying to remember where he was fifteen years ago consumed his thoughts when he was awake.<p>

Was it worth it? He was running away... how could he really trust this man? What if Emma or Mary Margaret were attacked while he was hiding away underground? Could he have walked straight into a trap? But what if he hadn't... what if this was really was the best way to protect them?

He couldn't take it. He had no idea what to believe or what to think. He was sure that his brain was swelling inside his skull, and one more thought would cause it to burst his entire head wide open. He couldn't sit and wait. He would fight. He would fight for them. Maybe he didn't know before, but he knew now. He was going to step up and be a good father for his daughter.

He had come with his gun, but for safekeeping, took a knife from the tiny counter space there was. He climbed to the top of the stairs and unlatched the door that led to above ground. He shook it several times before realizing he wasn't hallucinating and it really was locked. That man hadn't said anything to him about be locked from the outside! With fury, he banged on the door, but the metal latch stuck. He screamed a few expletives, then with all his strength, stuck the knife through the door. To his surprise, it went through much easier than expected. He continued carving until he could fit his hand through and feel for the handle on the other side. He felt his body lighten when he unhinged it and the door flew open. The air outside was fresh and warm, even in the darkness of late evening.

"Ah, ah, ah, David Nolan. As expected."

David turned, looking for the source of the voice, but the woods was clear. He had left

the knife stuck in the door, so he held out his gun in defense.

"Put down your weapon, Mr. Nolan. I only wish to speak. I had... quite a feeling you'd be coming out."

This time, a man appeared in front of him, so close it made him jump.

"Stay away from me," warned David.

"Is that a threat?" The man chuckled, as if he appreciated this joke. "I would watch what you do, for the sake of your daughter, and her sweet, school teacher mother, which you clearly think more of than just Emma's mother."

"How do you know my family?" asked David. "You own the Pawn Shop, don't you?"

"I own much more than that," said the man happily. "I own everyone in this town."

"You're sick," David spit. "If you touch my daughter, I'll kill you. I swear on my life, I won't stop until you're dead."

"Simmer down, David. I have no intention of touching your daughter."

"Then what do you want? How did you know where I was?"

"I have my sources. I knew you wouldn't last long down there. I decided to wait you out instead of venturing down to that dirty hole," he waved off the area where the secret door was as if it was a bad smell. "I knew you'd fight before you ran away. You're a strong character. I can use you."

"You won't use me for shit!"

"David, David."

"I'll kill you! I should kill you right now!"

"But you won't!"

"That's a pretty big bet to make!" David held out his gun in front of him, letting his finger trace over the trigger.

"You won't," he said calmly. "Because if you do, Emma won't make it out of the hospital."

"The hospital?" David croaked.

"Visiting a friend," the man smiled. "No need to worry."

"What do you want me to do?" said David meekly.

"That's better," the man moved closer confidently. When he was inches from David's face, David wound his arm and hit him as hard as he could. The man was older than he, less physically fit, and was knocked to the ground cursing. David ran as fast as sound, as lightning, as fast as the gusts of wind hitting him unforgivingly in the face. His knuckles were bleeding, and the cold air made the sting almost unbearable. Still he ran straight for the hospital, not even stopping to take a breath.

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><p>Note: Again, sorry for the long space in between updates. Thank you for the patience to continue reading this story! As always, reviews will make my day! :)<p> 


	15. Chapter 15

Emma groaned inaudibly when her mom nudged her awake. She had fallen asleep, finally finding a comfortable position in the horrible hospital chairs by laying on her mom's shoulder.

"What's wrong?" said Emma, her voice groggy from sleep. "Is Ella's dad ok?"

"No news yet baby," said Mary Margaret softly. "But someone is here to see you."

Emma rubbed her eyes and blinked a few times to steady her vision.

"David?"

"Hi Emma."

"What happened to you? Did they hurt you?!"

"What are you talking about, Em?" Mary Margaret asked, looking between David and Emma. David's eyes quickly shone with tears at the question, causing even more confusion for Mary Margaret.

"You knew I didn't run," he said wonderously. "How did you know?"

"At first I thought you did," Emma admitted. "But the more I thought about it, the more I realized. You wouldn't. I was going to come find you, I really was, but then Ella... she was hurt. And she had found her dad. I had to be here for her..." Emma looked at the ground when as she finished, so she couldn't see David shaking his head in disbelief at Emma feeling guilty.

"I should have been here for _you_. Christ, I should have been here for the past fourteen years. I'm so sorry, Emma, I've tried so hard to remember what happened or even who your mother is. I've gone on a few dates here and there but I just... can't seem to remember. When I try, it gets all fuzzy, like it's blocked out. I promise, if I had any idea you even existed... I would have been here Emma. Every day, I would have been there."

"It's okay," said Emma. "I had my mom."

"Right," smiled David.

"It makes sense, I guess. I was probably the product of a one night stand or something you were like blackout drunk. She never bothered to tell you because she didn't want to bother you or disrupt your life. So she just left me somewhere."

"Emma!"

"What?" Emma shrugged and looked innocently at her mom.

"No, she's right," said David. "This is my fault. Whatever I did to cause me to lose my memory, it must have been so, so stupid."

"David, you don't know that," Mary Margaret interjected reassuringly. "There could have been a trauma, some type of accident. It's possible to have amnesia for only a certain period of time."

"But what are the chances that it's the most important period of time?"

"I don't know," she admitted softly.

"I'm just glad you didn't have to grow up alone, Emma. And I know this is a lot for you, but if you'd let me, I'd like to start getting to know you. I'd really like to be a part of your life. If that's okay with you too, Mary Margaret."

"It's totally up to Emma," she said, putting her hand on Emma's back protectively. "You know I'm always behind you."

"Maybe we can all start to get to know each other," Emma suggested. "Together?"

"That's a really good idea," David nodded. "Except for a really minor problem I have."

"Which is?"

"The pawn shop owner, Mr. Gold, you know him?"

Emma shook her head and Mary Margaret spoke. "I know _of _him. Why?"

"Well, he's slightly crazy and behind all of this I'm pretty sure. I knocked him out and ran to the hospital to find you guys because I wanted to explain it all to you Emma, and I think we're going to have to go. At least, I am."

"No, you can't!"

"I'm so sorry, Emma. I wish things were different."

"Where are you going to go?"

"I don't know," admitted David. "But if he comes looking for me, at least I'll know you two are safe."

"You're going to leave the town?" Emma asked, getting silence and a look of shame as a response. "Fine, then let me say goodbye to Ella first."

"What?" David and Mary Margaret said at the same time, snapping their necks fast enough to break like a twig.

"Well, I'm not just going to leave without saying goodbye."

"You're not going anywhere," David said firmly. "This isn't your battle to fight, Emma."

"What do you mean, not my battle? They're hurting everyone I love! My best friend grew up without her father because of this man and... and so did I. How many more families is he going to break and manipulate before someone stops him? It's completely my battle to fight, but if you want to run, fine, we'll run. If you can live with yourself while he continues to tear innocent lives apart, I'll follow your lead. Since you're my father, and all."

David shook his head. "How are already so much smarter than me?"

"I knew you would change your mind!"

"Emma." The sound of her name came from behind her, it was not either of her parents.

"Graham? What are you doing here? Where have you been?"

"David," said Graham respectfully, nodding his head. David returned the gesture. "Hey Emma."

"Hey Graham, what's going on? You don't look so good."

"Ella's dad... he isn't doing so good."

"What? But I thought he was-"

"Emma," said Graham, grabbing both of her hands. His hands were cold, and still, Emma felt a warmness throughout her body when he reached for them. "I think you're in danger. I've been at the house Ella was held in trying to find clues. There's... there's some really scary stuff in there. I think you need to go. And quickly. I don't know why Emma, but I think... I think you've been his target all along. All this stuff with Ella and David... it was only to get to you. You're not safe here."

"But... but what would he want with me? I don't think I've ever even properly met him in my life."

"I don't know, I just know you're not safe. Please Emma, you have to leave while you still can. You can leave now and start over and be safe. I don't know how any of this works, but for some reason... something is keeping him in the town. I don't think he'll leave it. You can just leave and forget all this and be safe."

"I know," Emma said quietly. "That's the scariest part."

"What? What is?"

"That I could go on with my life and be okay, and leave everyone here in danger."

"Emma, think about yourself!"

"I'm so sorry, Graham," said Emma, trying not to let herself cry. "But I just can't afford to right now."

"You're an idiot, don't you know that?" Graham stared at Emma and wiped the spilling tears off her cheek. He pulled her in and kissed her so gently that Emma wasn't entirely sure if it was actually happening.

"What the hell is he doing?" David asked, but was subdued by Mary Margaret holding his arm to keep him from jumping in between them.

"Uh," said Emma, her cheeks filling with color. "Thank you."

"Thank you?" he laughed.

"Um. Yeah."

"Okay," he laughed. "Then it was no problem."

"Right," Emma nodded and turned her back towards him and faced her parents, realizing for the first time that they had seen everything. Her cheeks burned even brighter than before and she looked down to avoid eye contact. She briefly forgot where she was and what was happening until the bitterness of a shrieking alarm rang in her ears and water sprayed down throughout all the rooms.

"What is this?" Emma yelled over the alarms. "What's happening?"

"I don't know," David yelled back. "I think someone pulled the fire alarm!"

"Is there really a fire?" Emma yelled over the instructions being read over the loudspeaker. Stay calm, do not open hot doors, follow a staff member to the nearest exit. Emma's own question was answered by the smoke filling up the room. She tried to cough, but it seemed like it was only allowing more in.

"We have to get out!" Mary Margaret yelled, holding Emma steady. "There's a real fire!"

David ran to the door of the waiting room, but his hand flinched back at the touch of the doorknob.

"It's burning hot," he explained, his voice draining of all emotion.


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Note: **Hi. Again I send out my sincerest apologies for the long wait between chapters! I had to watch a bunch of OUAT fan videos on youtube to get some inspiration going today, but I'm finally I got to it! There's one called _this love / emma/charming_ by a user named beckahmarie2 and I HIGHLY recommend it! Sooo good. Anyway, as always, let me know what you guys think. Hearing feedback from you in reviews keeps my inspiration going and definitely makes for much less of a wait between updates! xox

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><p>Emma felt like her head was a blender and her brain was a smoothie. She rubbed her forehead gently and blinked her eyes open rapidly. She looked down at her feet and quickly realized she was lying in her bed in her favorite red and white fleece pajama set. It felt like she had been sleeping for at least ten years, so she jumped up and moved towards the mirror above her bureau. To her enormous relief, she was still fourteen years old, she still looked like how she remembered, she was still Emma. Not that much time had passed after all.<p>

Her next stop was downstairs, and her feet glided down the staircase so fast that she had to grab hold to the railing to slow down and keep her balance. She felt like a sudden idiot for not taking off the white polka dotted fuzzy socks she didn't remember putting on.

"Mom? Mooooo-om!"

The lack of response frightened Emma enough to tighten her chest. The excess of empty space in the kitchen and living room made her heart pound even harder against her tightened chest. Her feet moved towards her mom's bedroom. It felt like foreign territory. Her mom was rarely inside it, so Emma barely ever had a reason to venture towards it.

"Mom?" said Emma much more tentatively. She knocked on the door and got no answer, and the worst scenarios Emma could possibly think of starting playing in her head like a drive-in movie that she was tied up and forced to watch. She didn't know why she was so scared, perhaps her lack of memory, but tears started pricking at her eyes as she envisioned walking in to her see her mom hurt, or gone, or worse, dead. She wondered what she would do. Go find David? Would she have to live the rest of her life without her mom? She tried not to think of it and pushed the door open, expecting to see a lifeless body or an empty bed.

She saw the opposite.

Her eyes widened in a mixture of shock and relief. Her mom was lying on her bed, her chest rising and falling peacefully. Next to her was David, resting just as tranquilly. It looked like there was an invisible wall in between them and still, the shock of what was in front of her sprung her to action. She jumped and landed with her knees digging into the soft cushion of the mattress.

"Mom! Mom! Wake up!"

"Emma? Is that you?"

"No, it's your fairy godmother. Of course it's me!"

"Emma?" said a different voice with much more surprise. Emma felt a quick movement and a tiny yell of surprise, then a thud as David hit the floor.

"Mom," said Emma calmly, ignoring David's fall. She shifted to take up more space on the bed where he was previously. "What's going on?"

"What are you talking about? Emma, are you okay?" A sudden lone piece of knowledge seemed to dance across Mary Margaret's eyes as she remembered where she had been last. "Are you hurt? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

"I'm fine!" Emma brushed off her mom's questions flippantly. "What is going on? What's the last thing you remember?"

"We were in the hospital," said David, sitting up on the floor. "I had just run to you for some reason. I had something important to tell you."

"But there was a fire," added Emma.

"I remember being scared," said Mary Margaret, offering her piece to the puzzle in their brains. "I remember being afraid that Emma was going to be hurt."

"We were trapped in a fire," decided Emma. "In the hospital. And somehow we got out, unharmed, at least I think unharmed," she corrected, and Mary Margaret and David both confirmed this by nodding their heads. "We ended up at home, all of us here, but we can't remember how or when. Do you remember what day it was we were at the hospital?"

Both Mary Margaret and David looked surprised at themselves when they realized they in fact didn't know.

"Something is really fishy," Emma declared. "Something isn't right."

"That may be true," agreed Mary Margaret. "But there's no use discussing it on an empty stomach," she motioned her head to move out of her room, and neither Emma nor David were compelled to argue it. They followed her wordlessly into the kitchen.

"Please, let me get it," said David, moving next to her while Emma sat down at the island across from them.

"Sit down," Mary Margaret instructed. David ignored her and opened the refrigerator. Mary Margaret gave him an exhaustive sigh, like she couldn't argue with his help anymore, and Emma smiled. Whatever happened, she sort of liked it. There was an unnerving strangeness in her mom and David that took the comfort of familiarity away from her, but it felt temporary, so she decided to enjoy it. Both her mom and David seemed to have let their guard down and lacked a formality with each other. It felt different and new, but she couldn't help wonder if it was or not. Obviously her memory wasn't a reliable source, and how could it be new if they seemed this comfortable? She looked over to them to see if anything had changed, but they were stirring pancake batter practically on top of each other and laughing like they were only people in the world who existed. She felt a twinge in her stomach that she couldn't quite place with a logical emotion.

"Mom, I'm going to check on Ella, okay? I'll be back for lunch."

"Emma, you haven't eaten yet."

Emma was already running towards the stairs to get dressed. She yelled a mumble of strung together words that really didn't make any sense, but passed for a reply. On her way out, she made sure her mom saw her take an apple so she wouldn't nag her all night about leaving without eating.

She picked up a jacket left on the rack by the door as soon as she heard sound beginning to come from her mother's mouth, and rolled her eyes before leaving.

She felt a staleness in the air when she walked up to Ella's house. The wind made it feel like it was deserted. She rung the doorbell, half-feeling like it was useless and that there was no one there.

"Emma?"

"Ella! Hey! How are you? What are you wearing?" Emma said in happy surprise, then pure confusion. She was wearing a maid costume that looked like it had been bought at a cheap halloween store.

"What do you mean? I'm sorry, I do not mean to be rude. But why did you come to my house? Are you looking for Anastasia or Drizella? I did not know you were friends. "

"What? Ella, what are you talking about? I came here to see you! How is your dad? Did he make it?"

"I'm sorry, Emma, do you need help to see the doctor? My father died in an accident ten years ago, and I'm not sure why you would come see me when we barely spoke a word to each other when I was in school."

"What do you mean when? You're in school now! We have chemistry together and you're my best friend!"

"I'm sorry, I think you better go before my stepmother comes home."

"Ella! What's wrong? What happened!"

Emma tried to hold back the tears when the front door closed in her face. She turned and started walking to an address she had never been to, but only heard about it in the police station. She knocked on the door with expectations lower than a hole in the earth. She felt beaten and defeated and she was sure one wrong word would send her over the edge into complete hysterics.

The door opened a crack and an eye looked through it. She seemed to canvas Emma in a way that made Emma feel stripped down and bare. After a few moments, she opened the door. In a cheerful tone that made Emma recoil in surprise, she asked how she was doing.

"You must be the Sheriff's daughter! You're so popular around here, it's nice to finally meet you!"

Emma didn't know what she was talking about, or how she knew David was her father, but she decided not to question it at that moment.

"Is Graham here?" Emma asked nervously. "I just wanted to talk to him for a few minutes..."

"He actually just left a little while ago! He went to the library to work on a group project for school with some friends. Classes nowadays are getting so much harder than when I was in school! You guys have it much rougher than we did. Anyway, I'm sure you can catch him at the library if you need him."

"Oh, okay, thanks Mrs. uh Humbert."

"Of course sweetie," she smiled. "Tell your father I said hi!"

Emma nodded and turned around. She walked through the streets feeling like she was in someone else's body. Maybe she had died in the fire. That would make more sense than anything else she could come up with for what had just happened. She walked slowly down the sidewalks in the town, looking at every store and shop, trying to find any changes. Everything looked exactly the same. It was like she was in that fire in the hospital and woke up in a different life.

She took her time, stopping on a bench and watching people pass through the town. Over and over they waved at her like they knew her, when most of them she had barely seen in her whole life. Finally her growling stomach led her up and towards home. Relief flooded through her when she thought of her mom and David. At least they seemed normal. That meant something, at least. She wasn't totally alone.

She walked up the stairs to the apartment, already planning the words that were practically falling out of her mouth in eager anticipation, ready to tell her mom the strangeness that had happened to her. If anyone could make it all make sense, it was her mother.

Before she had a chance to fish her key out of her pocket, she saw the door to her apartment ajar. It looked lonely and betrayed and with a wave of caution, Emma pushed it open and walked in.

"Mom? Mom... what is going on? This isn't funny..."

She looked around her house. It looked like it had been hit by a tornado, one that was harsh and unforgiving and damaging. Everything was thrown everywhere, and one of the stools that went with the island in the kitchen was tipped over and looked like it had been dragged across the floor.

"MOM!" Emma yelled so loud her body crumpled forwards. Her lungs searched for air while she screamed again. "MOM! MOM MOM MOM!"

"Emma?" David stood in the doorway with keys and two movies in his hands. "What happened?"

"WHERE'S MY MOM!?" Emma yelled. "WHERE IS SHE?!"

"What do you mean! What the hell is going on here? I've been gone for maybe twenty minutes. She wanted to have a movie night with you later, I offered to go pick a couple up so she could clean up..."

"DOES THIS LOOK CLEAN TO YOU?!" Emma screamed so loud her throat burned.

"Emma, when did you get here?"

"I don't know! I don't know, maybe five minutes ago. Or less. Maybe more. I don't know! I don't know! Where's my mom?"

"Calm down, okay? We're going to find her. Just calm down. I need you to tell me everything you know and if you know anyone who might want to hurt her."

Emma's sobs somehow became louder as she thought about what she knew, and how none of that seemed to be the truth anymore.


	17. Chapter 17

**Note: **Hey, I felt like this story much deserved a back to back update. I am aware it's probably pretty confusing right now, but if you have any questions, feel free to take it to the reviews or my tumblr (which I can answer directly! and that is _shelizabethwriting)_ and I'd be happy to answer. I mean, hopefully it's confusing in a good way, like, a way that keeps you coming back for more ;)

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><p>It was her bed, but it didn't feel like it was. The world had turned upside down and Emma was barely hanging on. Her feet were dangling carelessly while her hands fought for their grip, just in case the universe decided they were as tired as her and wanted to flip back to the right way up, she was staying ready.<p>

She fell asleep late, and when she woke up, it felt like she had been sleeping for no more than fifteen minutes. She closed her eyes again, but she knew it was useless. She flipped over the pillow as a last ditch effort, but barely gave it a moment before jumping out. For a minute she thought about waking up yesterday. She wondered if today everything would be different again. Maybe the rest of her life would be waking up to an entirely different world. She laughed bitterly at the thought, but a seed of hope had already been planted. She walked down the stairs hoping to see her mom at the island sipping coffee like nothing was different. Or everything was different. She wasn't sure which one she wanted, and thinking about it too much made her head spin.

The kitchen was empty, but on the couch, David was completely passed out. Their wool blanket was only covering half of him and his mouth was open like he he was outside and trying to catch snowflakes. To her own surprise, Emma burst into sobs at the sight and the sound sent David into a frenzy of thumping on the floor.

"I need to stop waking up like that...," he mumbled before he could process what had woken him up. Emma was standing in front of the staircase, crying so heavily that she seemed unaware of her surroundings. "Emma, what's wrong? Did something happen?"

Emma shook her head, unable to stop. She wanted to so badly. She knew she was making things uncomfortable and crying wouldn't help, but she had never felt so scared and alone.

"Emma, please, don't cry. It's going to be okay..."

"How do you know? How do you really know? We have no way to find her... she could be dead already for all we know! The last thing I did before leaving her was roll my eyes! She was _annoying_ me and now I'm never going to see her again!"

"Don't say that! We don't know that! I'm going to find her, I promise."

"It's always just been me and her," cried Emma. "She can't be gone!"

"You need to stop like thinking that. Right now."

"She's the only parent I ever had. She's all I have. I can't... I can't even imagine carrying on without her," Emma admitted with a cracked voice. The thought made her feel more alone than she ever had. She felt a steady grip around her and realized David was pulling her into a hug. Her immediate reaction was annoyance, she wanted him to know that wasn't enough, that he needed to find her mom. But before she had the chance to open her mouth, she suddenly felt drained of any energy to argue, so she let him embrace her.

"We're going to be okay," David insisted.

And for the next few days, Emma believed him. Every phone call could be her mom, every dark-haired person on the street was Mary Margaret wandering after breaking free from wherever she was. Emma refused to go to school in case the phone rang or her mom came home. She wouldn't let anyone convince her otherwise, or admit to herself the fact that she partly didn't want to go back because she had no friends there anymore.

"Emma, we need to talk."

"Does it have to be right now?" Emma asked, slurping cereal out of her bowl. She felt milk dribble down her chin, and for a minute, expected her mom to hand her a napkin.

"Yes," answered David, and Emma could hear the hesitance in his voice. "It does."

"O-kay then. What is it?"

"You need to go back to school."

"I told you, I'm-"

"I know what you said. But I'm your father, and I'm saying you need to go back."

"Oh really? You're my FATHER? I'm not sure what makes you think you can just waltz in here and tell me what to do like you're some type of-"

"It would be what she wants," David interrupted. "And you know it."

Emma stared at him and bit her bottom lip to stop herself from crying. She was too angry to cry right now.

"You don't know anything about what she would have wanted, so why don't you quit acting like you do!"

"You can hate me all you want," said David calmly. "But you are still going to go to school tomorrow."

Emma's held-back tears came falling freely now, except they were tears of rage. She couldn't say or do anything to stop David from telling her what to do when he knew nothing about her. She could almost feel the heat of anger coming off her skin.

"I hate you! I hate you I hate you I hate you!"

Emma ran up the stairs before he could see her erupt, because she could feel herself losing control faster and faster. It wasn't fair. It just truly wasn't. She thought she was a good person. She was surely better than a lot of people she knew. So why did horrible things have to keep happening to her? It wasn't fair! She just wanted to be normal. Was that so much to ask? She buried her face into her pillow, figuring maybe she could suffocate herself and not have to wake up tomorrow for school or have to deal with David.

_The grass was itchy. She felt a weird sense of betrayal over it. Meadows were supposed to be soft and charming when you lept through them. But this grass went up to her knees and went on for as long as she could see, and it was just itchy. She didn't know where she was, or how she got here, but she knew why. _

"_Mom! Mom, hang on! I'm coming!" _

_Emma heard a whimper of a reply and her feet moved quicker. The itchy grass barely bristled her legs as she sprinted through the field. It was endless! There were no trees, no landmarks! No beginning, no end! How would she find anything in here?_

"_MOM!" She yelled. "I'M COMING! I'M COMING!"_

_She ran into nothingness until she came to a tree that looked as big as a building. She slowed to a stop in front of it, then walked slowly around to the other side. Her mom was sitting leisurely in front of it. At least, it looked like her mom. It was her mother, but with a flowy white dress and long hair._

"_Mom?! Mom! Are you okay? I'm here, I'm here!"_

"_Emma," she said in a voice that Emma couldn't tell between the sadness and happiness in it. "My baby, my beautiful little girl. I'm so sorry."_

"_Sorry?! Sorry for what?! Mom, where are we?! How do we get home?"_

"_I'm sorry for not recognizing you. I love you so much, more than I even thought possible. You have to know that."_

"_Of course I know that. What are you talking about?"_

"_You are doing it, my beautiful Emma. You are doing exactly what you're supposed to. Fate brought us apart, and together, and apart again."_

"_What I'm supposed to? You mean saving you?"_

"_No, my love, weakening it. You are going to break the curse."_

"_The curse?! What are you talking about! Tell me how to get us home!"_

_Her mom took a deep breath, as if she was about to give up something important. _

"_Mom! Why are you acting like this?!"_

"_Emma, don't stop," she said helplessly and somewhat urgently. Emma looked at her with utter confusion. "Don't stop for looking for answers. You're going to save everyone." Her mom reached out her hand to graze Emma's cheek, but Emma felt a force thrust her backward._

"_BIG MISTAKE!" A louder, different voice bellowed. For some reason, Emma felt like it was the voice pulling her backwards, even though she couldn't feel anyone physically there. _

"_Mom! MOM!"_

"Emma? Emma, you need to wake up. I know you're angry with me..."

"Huh?" Emma turned her groggy eyes to see David leaning over her. Her digital clock told her it was 6:33 in the morning. "Ugh."

"You have to get up now. I'll drive you to school."

"I'm not going and you can't make me."

"Actually I can," David corrected. "I really don't want to have to, but I will physically drag you if I have to. You can't sit around here anymore. It's not good for you."

"You have no right-" Emma started to growl.

"Five minutes."

Emma picked up her pillow and whipped it at the door as David closed it behind him. She angrily stood up and started pulling her drawers out. She was beyond anger. It felt like someone had set her blood on fire and she was boiling. Knowing there was nothing she could do to fight him kept running through her head and would make her angrier. She decided she would fight it by ignoring him. So she got dressed and jumped the stairs two at a time, then slammed the front door before David could say a word to her. If he didn't want her to sit around, it was all the better, because it was exactly what she would do as soon as school was over.

The steps of the school looked the same. The hallways had no change. The same shuffle was there between the sneakers and boots of all the students as they scurried between classes. Emma still smelled the lysol of the freshly sprayed lockers.

She had never felt so out of place. Even on the first day, she felt a confidence in the fact that everyone was in the same boat as her. Sure, maybe it was misplaced confidence, but at least her world was normal. Now, it felt like she had just been dropped in a horrible high school romantic comedy, and she was the loser side character.

"Emmy! Hello! Emmy!?"

"Excuse me?"

"Is everything okay?" asked Anastasia, coming up next to her. "You look so out of it. And what's with your outfit?"

"What do you mean?"

"You never wear jeans! Anyway, they're cute. WHERE have you been? I heard you went on a cruise to Aruba, but you would TELL me, wouldn't you?"

"What are you talking about? Why would I tell you anything?"

"O-kay. I'm going to let that one go, Emmy, because something is obviously up. Come on, let's go to home ec."

"Home ec? What is that? I have chemistry."

"Okay, now you're scaring me," Anastasia looked to the ceiling like Emma was crazy and wrapped her arm in between Emma's before she started walking. "Let's go."

Emma let Anastasia pull her to a room she had never been to before, full of ovens and stoves and entire mini-kitchens. She hated cooking and never had really done it before, and she had no idea why she would take this class. When she walked in, she sighed in relief at who was directly in front of her, talking to a bunch of other boys.

"Graham! Hey, Graham! So it's true! You really go here!"

"Emmy!" Anastasia reprimanded, pulling her back quickly. "WHAT has gotten into you? You can't just approach _Graham_ like that. He's _pop-u-lar._"

"What? He is?"

"Honestly. Did you fall and hit your head?"

"Uh, yeah. That's what happened."

"Stass! Emmy!"

"Oh, let's go. Avery's already at our table."

Emma couldn't help but let her mouth drop when she turned. Out of all the insane scenarios she envisioned, coming to school and being friends with Anastasia and Avery didn't even cross her mind.

"Mikey is staring at you, Emmy," Avery nudged.

"Oh my god, he likes you!" yelled Anastasia chirpily.

"What?" Emma's mouth went dry. "N-no he doesn't. I mean, it doesn't matter. I don't like him."

"What?! Why not?" asked Avery. "He's CUTE!"

"Yeah. I would be all up on that!"

Emma looked at Anastasia wearily. "Right. Well, uh, I'm interested in someone else, so, he's all yours."

"WHO?!"

"Uh- uuh," Emma looked around the room. She stopped at Graham, who was laughing at the table with what seemed like all his friends. They all seemed to be hanging on every word he said. She lifted her fingers to mouth without thinking and touched her lips, as if she'd still be able to feel the way it felt when his were on hers. It felt like a different lifetime, a different universe. Maybe it was.

"Oh my god. It's GRAHAM!"

"Shhh!" Emma instructed quickly. The last thing she needed was for Graham to think she was a freak in this world, when he was the only chance she had at having anything the way it was before. Truthfully, she just wanted him back as a friend.

"We SO need to get you guys together," Avery gushed. "How about a sleepover tomorrow night?"

"Sounds good to me. Emmy?"

"Uh, I'm not sure, I don't know if I should-"

"Oh, come ON! We'll help you catch up on all your homework. At least that's what you can tell your dad. Whose house?"

"We can't do it at mine," Avery said sadly. "My parents are having a dinner party. It's going to be swamped with drunk adults."

"We could do it at mine," Anastasia suggested. "I'll just make sure _Cinder_-ella stays in the basement."

"Did you just say Cinderella?" Emma asked, turning her full attention on Anastasia.

"You know... Ella. It's just a nickname I gave her, chill out there,Teach."

"I am chill," Emma said defensively. "You should invite Ella to the sleepover."

Avery and Anastasia both looked at each other and knocked their heads back laughing, as if Emma just earned the title for world's best comedian.

"Oh, Emmy, you really _did_ fall on your head, didn't you?"


	18. Chapter 18

**SPOILER AHEAD! **Hi. I've decided to give you guys a quick tidbit so no one gets unnecessarily angry. Mary Margaret is not dead. Mary Margaret will not die. Thanks. Enjoy the Daddy Charming time. Goodbye.

* * *

><p>"I understand," uttered David respectfully, reaching out his hand. "Thank you for your help."<p>

Leroy nodded like David was crazy and left the police station slowly, as if he wasn't sure if he was about to be attacked, and David let his head fall on top of his desk. He had never been more confused in his life. He had talked to Granny from the diner, Ruby, and now Leroy, and all of them said the same thing. David's wife had died in an accident and he had been raising his daughter alone for the past ten years. He didn't understand how it was possible. It just didn't make any sense. He was sure that just a few days ago, he had been running away. Mary Margaret had been with Emma, as she had been for the past fourteen years, and he had just found out he was a father, and accidentally at that. It didn't make sense even that David hit his head or lost his memory, because Emma was hysterical every night over losing her mother. How could they both remember the same thing, but the rest of the town didn't?

He shuffled through the papers in his file cabinet. There was a folder with Mary Margaret's name on it, and all the papers backed up what everyone he had spoken with had told him.

The thought terrified him. It was like she didn't exist. How could he tell Emma that he had no idea how he was going to find her when she'd been supposedly dead for ten years? If no one had any recollection of her existence for the past ten years, how could he even start to go about looking for her? He had promised Emma that he would find her, and he had no idea if he would be able to keep it.

He tried not to let his mind wander to if he couldn't. What was he going to do? He entertained the thought of just going along with the story of the town. Would that really be so bad? The thought of being Emma's parent was frightening, but exciting. But no, he couldn't do that. This was temporary. He knew Mary Margaret was her mother and Emma would never be able to rest until she got her back. He shuffled the papers into a manila folder and locked the cabinet before leaving the station.

His job was the same, true, but everything was different about it too. For some reason, he had a feeling that there was only person that he could talk to that would be able to explain it to him.

The unfamiliar bell of the pawn shop rung when David swung the door open, and it made him realize how few times he had actually been in the store, yet it felt like he knew Mr. Gold well.

"Ah, Mr. Nolan, what a nice surprise. Are you shopping for anything in particular?"

"Actually, Gold, I'm here to talk."

"Talk?" Gold feigned surprise. "Pertaining to what?"

"I think you know more than you're letting on," David said narrowly.

"I'm sorry. I still don't know what you-"

"Where is Mary Margaret?"

"Mary Margaret? She was in an accident so many years ago now, I just don't-"

"Cut the act, Gold. I know you know something is wrong here, and you know what? I think you had something to do with it."

"That's where you're wrong," Gold corrected, pulling out a velvet box from behind the counter. "I had nothing to do with this one. But this," he offered the box in front of him. "This might be what you're looking for."

David took the glass ball out of the box Gold placed on the counter. It looked like someone had glued a picture of a summer day into a broken snowglobe.

"What is this? Some type of defective snowglobe?"

"It's your key. To finding what you're looking for."

"Okay then." David spoke like he was in the middle of a mental hospital. He wasn't sure he was right in coming here anymore. Maybe Gold really didn't know what he was talking about and was actually just a crazy old man. Still, he carried the snowglobe back to Mary Margaret's apartment, or maybe his apartment, he didn't know anymore, carefully.

"What is that?" Emma said tersely as soon as David walked through the door.

"Hi to you too, there. How was school?"

Emma mumbled something under her breath instead of answering. "What _is _that?"

"I don't know," David answered honestly, setting it on the kitchen table. "Mr. Gold gave it to me."

"_Gold?"_

"Yes?"

"Did he say what it was for?" Emma asked, picking it up off the table and examining it. When she looked at it, she felt her heart stop all at once and heard a gasp. It took a few minutes to realize she was hearing herself.

"Emma? Are you okay?"

"I-I'm fine. I just... I had a dream and it was exactly like this."

"You had a dream?"

"Yes," Emma said, looking up at David, a mixture of fear and confusion in her eyes. "My mom was in it. And it looked exactly like this. She said.. she said something like I had to keep doing it. I had to break the curse."

"You had to break the curse?" David said skeptically.

"I know it was just a dream," Emma defended. "But it's really freaky. It looked _exactly _like this meadow. And how many snowglobes don't have snow?"

"I don't know," admitted David. "But breaking a curse doesn't make any sense."

"Don't you think I _know_ that?"

"Emma, I know you're going through a lot right now. And I can't explain it either, but I want her back just as much as you. It's going to be harder to find her if we're working against each other."

Emma shifted her shoulders defensively.

"You don't know what I want."

"I know that you want to know what happened to your mom, and I know that we might be able to do it a little easier if we worked as a team."

Emma glanced at the floor, then fixated on her feet. "You want to be a team with me? Even after I said those horrible things to you?"

"Of course I do. I mean, I'm pretty sure you're the only person in this whole town who hasn't completely gone crazy."

Emma looked up and let herself smile in relief. She was so tired from having to hate him, it would be nice to feel like someone was on her side.

"It's so crazy, David. People at school who made my life miserable before are acting like my best friends! Everything is so morphed! What was work like for you? Was it different? I mean besides Graham, obviously that was different, but other than that? I bet you have all the files, right? We could look at those, I bet they would help. These girls asked me to sleepover tomorrow, I don't want to go, but I want to see my old friend who will be there, you don't mind right? I think it's my best shot to figure out what's going on, at least schoolwise for me. I'm so tired, David, I've barely been able to sleep... it's just that when I do, I've been getting these dreams, you know, like I told you? They don't feel like dreams though. At least not like ones I've had before. I'm just so tired... I think I should lay down for awhile."

"Go rest," David laughed lightly. "Everything's going to be here when you wake up." After a second thought, and a weary look from Emma, he realized that wasn't the smartest statement to make. For all he knew, everything would be different when she woke up. He opened his mouth to correct himself, but found something different came out. "I promise."

Emma's grateful nod and small smile told him he made the right call, that she needed to hear those words from somewhere.


	19. Chapter 19

"Okay," David scratched his chin and looked down at the homemade map of relations he and Emma had made. "It seems like everything is exactly the same."

"Except for us."

"It just doesn't make any sense," David scratched the back of his neck and stared at the family trees, as if the drawings were going to come to life and shout the answer at him if he stared them down long enough.

"Well we know it had to do with the fire," Emma reasoned. "What if it wasn't a fire?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Okay, well, hear me out," Emma shifted her position off her legs before they fell asleep on her. She was feeling fresh and recuperated after a nap, and full from a dinner of macaroni and cheese a la David, and her brain was spinning with possibilities. "What if the fire wasn't really the cause, but a distraction from the cause?"

"Ah, I see what you're saying. So there was something bigger, something more important that really caused this parallel universe?"

"Exactly!"

"Okay, so somehow the entire world shifted overnight, and the fire knocked us out and provided a distraction so whoever did this could leave us safely at home."

"Exactly," Emma repeated. "I mean, think about it. If the fire was more than a planned distraction, then how did we get home safely with no burns or anything at all to show we were in a fire? If it wasn't planned, surely we would have had some type of injury."

"You make an excellent point. You would be a great Sheriff someday."

Emma smiled proudly. "You taught me well!"

"I think we should take a break for tonight," David said suddenly, folding up the homemade paper map. "We made a lot of great progress."

"Why? Did I say something wrong?"

"What? No! It's late and you have school tomorrow, plus that sleepover, right?"

"Right," Emma nodded. "But I took a nap."

"Emma, I don't want this to consume your life. And I don't want to give you false hope."

"What are you talking about? How is figuring out what this is false hope?"

"I don't understand what has happened, and I really wish I did for you. But I just don't. And as much as I want to figure it out, I don't want you to get your expectations up and have them be-"

"What? Crushed?"

"I don't know, Emma," David shook his head like he could feel a headache coming on.

"You do know! What are you not telling me?"

"Emma-"

"Aren't you supposed to be my _dad?"_

"Of course I-"

"Then tell me!"

"Everyone I talked to today said the same thing, and the records back it up. Everyone says your mom died in an accident ten years ago."

"But... but that doesn't make sense. If everyone thinks she died, then how are we going to-"

"I don't know," David finished. "I wish I did."

"Okay, wait. So in this universe she died when I was four? And you guys were both my parents?"

"I guess, yes."

"But she was my adoptive mom. She adopted me, right? That must be in the records."

"I- I didn't even think to check-"

"And if you were married, that means you are really my adoptive father!"

"That doesn't make any sense, Emma. We already know that I'm your-"

"Yes, _we_ know! We know because of a DNA test that you're my real father! But if we didn't, I would just think you're my adoptive father."

"Emma, I honestly don't know what you're getting at."

"We know something this universe doesn't! Do you know what that means?!"

"I'm afraid I don't, no."

"It means we need to get my mom's DNA from the hospital somehow! Do you think they would still have it, David?"

"I'm not sure," he said honestly. "But if not, I might know how to get it anyway."

Emma smiled broadly. "If my mom is really my mom... it means... it means..."

"It means," David finished. "That we have a whole lot more to figure out."

* * *

><p>Emma glided through the next day with the ease of a porcupine in a narrow tunnel. She tried to fake laughter with Avery and Anastasia, but it felt like she was in a bubble that was about to pop at any wrong word and she would be totally exposed for the phony she is.<p>

She spent most of her free thoughts imagining a conversation with Graham or Ella and how it would go. It kept her mostly occupied. She kept creating different scenarios of how to approach it. In some of them, she just tried to recreate new friendships in a new world, and in the others, she was desperately trying to explain the situation and make them understand. These scenarios were more detailed and took up more of her thoughts. Some of them, they would hug her, Graham even giving her another kiss on the lips, and tell her they totally believe her, and something was off for them too, and they were looking for answers. In an ideal situation, they could look all three of them as a team. But when she had to be realistic, she knew it wouldn't happen like that, and she couldn't risk it. She spent all day working up the courage to talk to Graham, but could never find him alone, so she decided to focus on Ella. Her best friend, Ella. The only person she ever really had as a friend.

"Emmy!"

Emma flinched at the sound before telling herself she would have to act better than that if she was going to make it through the night. Avery and Anastasia appeared behind her at once, and Emma wondered if they ever traveled alone.

"Ready to go? I have a driver waiting out front."

"You have a driver?"

"As opposed to what?" Anastasia asked, looking at Avery, both trying to contain laughter. "Taking a bus?"

Emma felt alarmed at their sudden laughter, but tried to laugh along. She could hear the bitterness in the falsity of it. As the sound died down, Emma followed them to the front of the school, figuring out now what that black SUV in the front of all the buses had been for. She had given up trying to make conversation with them, but occasionally nodded, especially when she heard them beginning to laugh over something. She was going over in her own mind how she was going to talk to Ella. First she would have to find her. Then she would have to convince her to be her friend.

"Hello?" Avery looked boredly towards Anastasia. "What is wrong with her?" Her whisper didn't have any exceptional effort in it to not be heard by Emma, but Emma couldn't have cared less. Finding Ella was easier than she expected, since she was waiting at the front door entrance. It gave her a sick, twisted feeling in her stomach. Not only the fact that she was wearing a physical apron, but her face was different. Her best friend was strong and hard, unbreakable. There was a kindness in her face, but no weakness. In this girl, in this body that looked like her old friend, it was the opposite. Her face looked broken and forlorn. It was a spirit that was more breakable than she was comfortable seeing.

"Ella!" Emma yelled, running towards her.

"Emma? What the heck are you doing?"

Emma turned back to look at the blank stares from her two friends and backtracked as much as she could.

"Uh, I- uh- I didn't mean..."

"What is _wrong_ with you today?" Anastasia laughed uneasily, and Avery seemed to follow her lead not to press it further than that. "Come on. We need some time to relax. Cinder-ella, bring us the usual. We'll be in my room."

Emma desperately wanted to reach out and offer to help, to escape these two people who were so horrible to such a wonderful human being, but instead swallowed and followed Anastasia up the winding staircase. She heard a horrible voice coming from upstairs and wondered if someone was being tortured to death in their house.

"Uh..." Emma inquired towards the noise.

"Drizella," Anastasia explained. "She's practicing for an audition."

"An audition?"

"She's trying to be a singer."

"Oh," Emma nodded. "Hey, can I ask you a question?"

"You just did," Anastasia mocked, looking at Avery and smiling.

"Right. Well I have another one. Where, um, where does Ella stay?"

"Why are you so interested in her? God."

"I'm not!" Emma stammered, not knowing why she felt the need to defend herself about it.

"You're sure acting like it."

"I'm not," Emma repeated. "So," she changed the subject to prove her point, "what are we doing first?"

Anastasia and Avery smiled at each other in triumph. Emma smiled watchfully and let them wisp her into Anastasia's room. It was truly the room of an overly spoiled princess. Her bed looked like the size of Emma's living room, a transparent white canopy covered the soft pink coverings. The walls matched the pink bedspread, and all the furniture was a royal white. Emma, who always prided herself on being immune to these extravagances, couldn't help but feel an enchantment at the enormity and softness in the room. She couldn't help but acknowledge the fact it was her first sleepover.

"Emmy, come here. We're going to start with your nails!"

Emma followed their lead and laid across Anastasia's monstrous bed. She followed their lead all night, until her fingernails were painted, her toenails were painted, until they almost convinced her to get bangs, and until Avery suggested they call Graham.

"What? No!"

"Why not?!

"Because! We just... can't! Something else."

"Okay, truth or dare. You first, Emmy."

Emma grinded her teeth but settled on the compromise.

"Truth," she answered safely.

"Okay, hmm... have you ever kissed a boy?"

Emma opened her mouth and closed it. If she said yes, she would have to explain Graham, which she most definitely couldn't do. If she said no, they would definitely make fun of her for being a loser, which could be just as bad.

"No," Emma said finally.

"You're lying!"

"No, I'm not!"

"Tell the truth!"

"OKAY! I have, okay? Happy?"

"I KNEW IT! Who was it, Emmy?"

"It was... someone you don't know. It was nothing," Emma lied, sending a telepathic message to the Graham in the alternate universe she left behind. _It wasn't nothing, Graham. I swear._

"Stop lying!" Anastasia ordered, more harshly than Emma expected. "It was Graham."

Emma felt heat fly up to her cheeks immediately. "Why would you say that?"

"It's _so_ obvious," she said, stifling a yawn. "We should most definitely call him."

"No! You guys said you wouldn't! That's why we played truth or dare."

"Yeah, but the rules are that you have to answer truthfully. Therefore, it doesn't count, and we can do whatever we want."

"Those aren't the rules!"

"Yeah, Stasia, we didn't really agree on that..." Avery suggested nervously.

"You can't! Please!" Emma begged. She had to talk to Graham herself. She needed time to explain. Anastasia could ruin everything if she called and made Emma seem like a some silly girl with a crush on him.

"Well, I mean, since you guys _kissed_, I'm sure he'll want to talk to you, right? I'm sure he'll remember this kiss that you guys shared?"

"Please don't," Emma quavered, while Anastasia was already holding up her phone. She watched her, frozen, hoping she hadn't dialed, or at the least, Graham wouldn't pick up.

"Oh, hi Graham! It's Anastasia Tremaine, you know, from school? I just wanted to talk to you about my friend Emma-"

Emma couldn't listen to the rest. Trying to get out before she cried, she dashed out of Anastasia's fluffy room and down the stairs. She barely even noticed Ella polishing the table in the dining hall until she heard her name.

"Miss Emma? Is everything okay?"

"Fine, I'm just leaving," Emma stammered before looking up at who she was speaking to. "Ella."

"Yes? Do you need something?"

"Ella," Emma looked at her, feeling her eyes fill up with a different kind of tears. She had never been so grateful to see her friends face, even if her friend didn't recognize her. "I miss you so much."

"Miss me?" Ella squeaked as Emma wrapped her arms around her. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"Just give me a chance to explain everything? Can you? I can meet you somewhere. During the day sometime? Whenever you're free."

"Miss Emma, I'm not sure what you're trying to get at..."

"Please," Emma begged. "Just give me a chance. I just have to talk to you. Please. Everything in my life is crazy right now and I- I just need my best friend."

Ella looked her up and down and seemed to think about the idea. Of course it would not be a wise decision to go with Emma. Emma could most certainly be setting her up to get in a lot of trouble for sneaking out. Yes, it would be wise to send Emma on her way and decline her request.

Ella sighed, then spoke. "How about 2:30 on Monday? My stepmother takes my sisters to etiquette lessons straight from school on Monday's and they don't arrive home until after four."

"That's perfect! Thank you so much, thank you Ella. I'll see you Monday." Emma squeezed her before she ran out the front door.


End file.
